You Know What You Want
by smc-27
Summary: She hated him from the moment she saw him. Their two companies merged together, and he brought his arrogance and innuendo into the office where she worked. But she wouldn't fall for it. He knew trying to make her was going to be a lot of fun. AU LP MRated
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is different - very different - from anything I've written and posted. I just needed a break from the fluff and love that I've written so much of lately!

This is _definitely_ M (for language and adult situations). It's definitely (probably) a little controversial. It's definitely _totally_ AU. It's definitely _not_ for anyone under the age of 18.

You've been warned!

**----**

She hated him from the moment she saw him.

He was arrogant, and pompous, and he felt like everyone should treat him like royalty, just because his father owned half the city. She'd heard about the Scott boys, and while Nathan had the more colourful reputation, she knew Lucas Scott wasn't a stranger to alcohol, women, and one night stands.

He was the kind of man she couldn't respect, and she simply refused to do it.

His publishing company - of which he was Vice-President - merged with the record label she was head of A&R for, and from the first day he walked into the office building for a preliminary meeting, she saw him eyeing her up. She'd glared at him that day, and every day since, when she caught him staring at her hungrily. He made no attempt to hide the lust in his eyes, and she made no attempt to hide the disdain in hers.

She was just a girl from humble beginnings. A single father, and a small town, and a few close friends. She'd moved to the city to work at that very label, working her way up in the 10 years she'd been there. She started in the mail room, and busted her ass to get somewhere; to get anywhere. She was damn good at what she did, and she was assured that her job was secure when the merger announcement was made.

The two companies together formed a media conglomerate. Magazines and books, and music and soundtracks, and a music publishing sub-company.

But that just meant seeing Lucas Scott every day.

And she had thought that seeing his name on Page 6 every few months was enough.

The boy was an heir, and had the attitude and personality to match. He barked orders, and shouted to his assistant when his coffee got too cold. He marked pages feverishly, and thrust them back into the hands of his employees, demanding changes. He wore expensive suits, and drove around in an expensive SUV, and he was everything she hated about New York, all wrapped up into one person.

But he was a hard worker. She'd give him that.

Their first real conversation took place at the end of his first week working in the same building. She had stayed late to finish paperwork while it was quiet, and she didn't even know anyone else was still in the building. It was rare that, at nearly 7:30, anyone else be around.

And then he appeared in her doorway, his button down shirt's sleeves rolled up, and his tie hanging loose around his neck.

"I don't believe we've met," he said as he leaned against the frame.

"We have, actually," she said, turning back to her work. "Several times."

"I know that, but, _'your legs are fucking unbelievable',_ seemed like a horrible way to start a conversation," he told her.

She was stunned into silence, and when her head snapped up and she looked at him, she immediately despised the smirk on his lips. The guy had some nerve. He obviously didn't care about a sexual harassment lawsuit. She was sure his daddy would buy him out of it, and he was probably well aware of that fact, too.

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously.

"You heard me," he stated with confidence. And she had.

He stepped further into her office, with its red walls and deep brown wood shelves, lined with countless albums. She had photos of herself with some of the artists signed to the label, and a few of herself with some nobodies. Well, who he considered nobodies; they were obviously somebodies to her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as he strolled around her office.

"You mean other than making you terribly uncomfortable by telling you I think your legs are sexy, and looking at your personal things?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes. "Working late."

"Do you even _have_ to work?" she asked under her breath.

"No," he said, perching himself on her desk, just to her right. "But I like to."

"You like to work," she stated in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes."

"Because of my father?" he asked.

"You don't seem like the working type," she explained. He tipped his head back and let out a chuckle.

"What type do I seem like?" he inquired.

"The type who says crass things to women instead of initiating a conversation with something neutral and genuine," she said, and he smirked at her again.

"Oh, I was being genuine," he told her, and she scoffed.

"I get the feeling that's a rarity," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She was still holding her silver pen between her fingers, and there was a curl tumbling over her shoulder.

"Maybe it is," he said. "Maybe you should feel honoured."

"I'm swooning. Really," she said dryly. He chuckled again and she almost let herself smile. "Do you need something, Mr. Scott, or are you just distracting me from my work for your own pleasure."

The way her lips move when she said the word pleasure, had him thinking incredibly dirty thoughts of her. Even dirtier than the day before when she'd work a tight black skirt with a silk tank top, and had taken her jacket off as she walked from the elevator to her office. He'd been standing at the reception desk, and she gave him the cold shoulder, but he wanted nothing more than to undress the rest of her.

"If I was here for my own pleasure, we wouldn't be merely talking," he said seriously. "Trust me on that."

She scoffed at the notion that she should ever trust him at all.

"And I suppose you expect me to just drop everything and fall to my knees in front of you?" she said, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I wouldn't complain," he said, his voice thick with lust.

He liked her. He really did. She said things like that without disguising the innuendo or what she was really implying. She clearly had ill-feelings towards him, and she would be a challenge. He felt he was up for it. There was a wall up in front of her that was going to be a hell of a lot of fun to knock down.

And the thought of her on her knees in front of him had his heart racing, he wouldn't lie.

He just knew it wouldn't be that easy. If he was being honest, if it was that easy, he'd probably be less interested in her.

She was different, clearly. Women never turned him down. In fact, he usually wasn't the one initiating anything.

She was going to make him work for it, and work for it he would.

She knew what he was doing. It wasn't like he was being subtle. She wasn't going to let him get away with it.

"I'm not going to fuck you in your office," she told him, her voice dripping with somehow both fake sweetness and complete disgust.

"Somewhere else, then? Because I can be fairly accommodating," he responded, chuckling when she huffed and turned away from him. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Do you have a problem?" she asked hotly. "Because I'd like to go home at some point, and you're in my way. Literally."

She poked at his thigh with her pen, and he smiled as he hopped down off her desk.

"Let me know if you need a ride," he said, well aware of the double entendre. "I'll be here for another half hour or so."

"I'll be just fine on my own," she told him when he turned back to her as he reached the door.

"I'm resisting the urge to make a very sexual comment based on your answer to my simple offer," he said with a smirk.

"Keep resisting," she warned him.

"You too, Peyton," he said. He winked at her before he left her office.

And all she could think was that he was lucky he left when he did, or she would have hurled her water glass at him. What an arrogant pig. For him to imply that she wouldn't be able to resist him? How many lines had he crossed in that one short conversation.

She loathed him. He made it all too easy.

She didn't know why she was smiling.

----

She wasn't sure how it happened, but they ended up waiting for the elevator at the exact same moment the following Tuesday. She saw him standing there, and she rolled her eyes and contemplated heading back to her office, but her heels on the marble tile of the hallway called his attention to her.

He was wearing a suit she recognized was Zegna - she had her fashion designer friend to thank for such pieces of information - in a deep grey colour with a black button down shirt (no tie) underneath. She'd noticed earlier in the day, when he wasn't wearing his jacket, that his slacks were tailored perfectly.

And yes, she'd been looking.

"Miss Sawyer," he said, his eyes focused straight ahead.

"Mr. Scott."

They'd been in a shared meeting earlier that day, comprised of just management, as they bandied around ideas for how the company should be branded and marketed as they 'moved forward'. Peyton hated that term. Each time she heard it, she cringed - something that didn't go unnoticed by Lucas.

And he noticed, because he could hardly take his eyes off her. She'd be taking notes with her right hand, and idly toying with her necklace with her left, or she'd brush a stray curl off her face. She was subtle and graceful, all while being so sexy that it almost physically hurt him just to be in her proximity.

And then they butted heads over how the company letterhead should be designed, and she held her own with him - eventually winning out - and he actually smiled, though he'd lost the argument - and crossed his arms. She looked at him smugly for a split second, then went back to her note pad.

"Good work earlier," he said when he finally turned to her.

"Better than you," she said, grinning just a little.

He didn't know why she was so insistent on hurting his pride. He had no fucking clue why he liked it so much, either. Perhaps that was the bigger question.

"Evidently."

"Sorry," she offered. "I just love to win."

"It's not a competition," he stated. She looked over at him with a raised brow.

"Isn't it?"

"Are we still talking about work?" he asked.

The elevator arrived, and he swept his arm, gesturing for her to step in ahead of him. And yes, that was not only because he was a gentleman, but also because he didn't have to act like one when she couldn't see him. She looked just as good from behind as she did from the front.

"What else would we be talking about?" she asked as she hit the button for the ground floor. She set her bag on the floor at her feet and pulled her jacket over her shoulders, her chest pressing forward as she slid her arms through the sleeves.

He couldn't _not_ stare.

"This," he said simply, turning to her and leaning against his hand on the railing behind them.

"There is no _this_," she reminded him. "We're simply colleagues. Well, I'm simply a colleague. You're a silly man with an inappropriate crush."

"A crush?" he scoffed. "Don't make it sound so adolescent. Believe me, Peyton, the things I want to do to you are far from adolescent."

She shook her head and slung her bag over her shoulder again.

"You have no shame, do you?" she asked. He noticed she was smiling. She was amused by him, if nothing else. He could work with that.

"I do," he said. He didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask him to. "Can I offer you a ride home?"

"You can offer. I won't accept."

"It's late," he pointed out.

"Exactly," she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He chuckled.

"Are you walking?"

"Why so much interest?"

"Just curious," he said with a shrug.

"I'm meeting friends for dinner," she told him for some reason.

"Anyplace good?" he inquired.

"Why would I go anyplace bad?" she countered. He laughed again and she smiled.

He was liking her more and more.

The elevator reached the bottom floor, and they both stepped out. He loved the sound her heels made on the floor of the lobby of their office building as they made their way to the main doors, and when he pushed the door open for her, she smiled at him as thanks.

She gestured towards the waiting limousine, indicating that was her ride, and he raised one eyebrow.

"Friends in high places," she said, by way of explanation.

"You're not exactly in a low place," he pointed out, and she rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Peyton."

"Goodbye," she said. She started off towards the car, but she could feel his eyes on her. She turned just before the chauffeur opened the door for her, and called Lucas' name.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"No."

"Pardon?"

"The question you asked me the other day. No," she said. She saw the quizzical look on his face, and she stepped into the limo before he could ask her to elaborate.

The car drove two blocks and he watched it the entire way, until it rounded a corner. Once it was out of sight, he realized what she was saying.

No, she didn't have a boyfriend.

"Was that Lucas Scott?" Brooke asked once Peyton was seated next to her in the back of the car.

"The bane of my existence? Yes."

"That is one _sexy_ bane of your existence," Brooke pointed out, craning her neck to look at the man standing on the sidewalk behind them. "What's wrong with him?"

"Everything," Peyton replied, deadpan.

"No, seriously."

"Seriously," Peyton said with a nod. "He's...awful."

"He likes you," Brooke stated, and Peyton rolled her eyes. "He obviously does. He just watched the car drive out of sight."

"He doesn't like me. He wants to fuck me. There's a difference," Peyton said.

"Well, either way," Brooke shrugged. "Could be fun."

"Fun."

"Hate sex is hot," Brooke said seriously.

"I'm not having sex with him," Peyton said firmly. "So...no."

"Can I?"

"No!" Peyton answered quickly.

"And why not?" Brooke asked with a kinked brow.

Peyton knew that look. Brooke was just trying to get her to say that she couldn't sleep with him because Peyton wanted to, herself.

"Because it would feed his pathetic ego, and...he doesn't need the encouragement," Peyton stated. Good cover, she thought.

"Or, because you secretly want him to throw you on your desk and have his way with you," Brooke argued. "It's normal. Office environment. Someone always wants to screw someone else."

"Brooke!"

"What?!" the brunette laughed. "It's the truth!"

Peyton knew that Brooke was probably right. In an office environment, there were always secret hookups at holiday parties or company retreats. She'd seen it happen a lot of times before, and never once had it worked out for the couple. Once of them always had to quit and move on to escape the other. She wouldn't be one of those people. She loved her job too much.

But Lucas' ass did look great in those pants....


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** OK. Do you guys know how awesome you are? I hope so. I can't believe the response to this story. I'm excited for it. It's been a blast to write. So, I am posting the next chapter right away. Hope you like it!

**----**

Peyton was reading the newspaper as she rode the elevator, rustling the pages with one hand as she clutched her cup of Starbucks with the other, when her eyes fell upon an interview on the gossip page.

_'Brooke Davis tells all! Well...Most.'_

Peyton smiled and shook her head.

Then she almost spit out her coffee when she read what her best friend had said when asked who Brooke thought was the most eligible bachelor in New York City.

_'Lucas Scott might be at the top of the list. Impeccable fashion sense, sexy smirk. And those blue eyes are pretty intense. He's successful and intelligent. He's the whole package. But I think I may have to reserve him for my best friend. Maybe he's not so eligible after all.'_

"Dammit, Brooke!" she cried. Everyone in the elevator stared at her like she was crazy, and when they came to her floor, she stomped off.

That was _so_ not the way she wanted to start her day.

She strode to her office with determination, closing the door behind her forcefully. She dropped her bag on the chair across from her desk as she walked, and shrugged off her jacket as she dialed Brooke's office.

"Brooke, please. It's Peyton," she told Brooke's assistant.

She still had the paper in her hands, and she slammed it down on her desk as she stood there, waiting for Brooke to answer.

"Hey, Peyton!"

"What the _hell_!?" Peyton shouted. "What the hell are you thinking? Why would you say that?!"

"Oh, please," Brooke said dismissively, once she realized what the call was about. "He really is hot. And you _so_ want him."

"I do not!"

"You do. You just don't know you do. And besides, I didn't say your name," Brooke reminded Peyton.

"You might as well have!" Peyton cried. "God, I can't _believe_ you."

"No one knows who my best friend is," Brooke said. "God, you're uptight. You really do need to get laid."

"Brooke!"

"Whatever. I have meetings, so unless you're going to stop yelling at me, I'm hanging up," Brooke said with a laugh.

"This isn't funny," Peyton said bitterly.

"It is from where I'm sitting," Brooke chuckled.

"You're a bitch," Peyton huffed.

"Yeah, well, this bitch is buying you drinks at the Four Seasons later, remember? 7:30. Don't be late, or in tomorrow's paper? I'm naming names," Brooke threatened.

Peyton couldn't even get a word in before Brooke hung up the phone.

She slammed her phone down on the desk, picked up the newspaper, and threw it across the room just as the door opened.

Guess who.

Lucas poked his head in with an amused look on his face when he saw the newspaper fly across the room and land just to the right of the door. She was pacing, and she had her hand on her forehead.

"What?" she asked harshly.

"Bad time?"

"Yes."

"OK," he said. She glared at him when he walked into her office and closed the door behind him. "Want to talk about it?"

Oh God. No. She couldn't talk about it with him, or he'd know that _she_ was the best friend Brooke was talking about.

Peyton was this close to telling Brooke they weren't best friends anymore, after that stunt.

Brooke had always meddled in Peyton's love life a little bit, trying to get the blonde to have some fun and not always look for the intense relationship. All that ever ended up doing was wasting Peyton's time with blind dates to movie premiers and other equally as horrible places. Peyton hated that scene, and she really didn't want to be any part of it.

What she really wanted was to meet someone nice in a natural setting. The coffee shop near her building, or on the subway, or in that record store she frequented. She wanted it to be natural. She wanted to hit it off with someone, and not want to spend a single second apart.

She wanted love. Not just one night, or someone to keep her occupied for a while. _Love_.

"No. It's...I'm fine," she said, doing her best to appear so.

"Your newspaper isn't," he said, picking up the mangled newsprint. "You know, my father is a major shareholder with this paper. If there's a problem, I'm sure we could talk it out."

"Charming."

"I'm not even trying," he stated, smiling at her.

"I think you're always trying," she mumbled.

"I think you _want_ me to try," he challenged.

"Whatever. Do you need something, or are you just trying to make my day that much worse?" she asked.

"It's not even 9:00. How can your day be bad already?" he asked. He wanted to sit, but he knew it would mean a verbal lashing.

"It just...is," she said vaguely. "I'm...I have a lot to do."

"Well, if you need anything at all, you know where I am," he said. He placed her paper in the recycling bin behind the door. "For the record? You look..._amazing_ this morning."

She didn't say a word - she didn't know what to say - as he turned around and walked out of her office, pulling the door closed behind him once he was in the hall again.

But his simple statement actually made her feel marginally better.

She went about the rest of her day, surprised and happy that her morning wasn't indicative of how the remainder of her day would go. She had a productive morning, her new assistant, Mia, finally got the hang of properly screening calls, and her lunch meeting went well.

She saw Lucas as she stepped off the elevator when she came back from her meeting, and she noticed that he glanced to the two coffees in her hand. He looked at her in confusion, wondering who the other coffee was for, but she didn't say a word, and instead kept walking.

When he went back to his office after seeing one of the publishing company's senior investors off, he saw the Starbucks cup sitting on his desk, and he smiled to himself.

He thought he might be wearing her down a little bit.

----

After Peyton finished her work - staying late, as per the usual - she clicked the lock on the door in her office, and pulled the blinds closed, and she changed into the jeans and top she'd brought.

She checked herself in the mirror she had hanging from the side of a bookshelf - a hidden mirror that she'd never admit to having - and assessed her look. Her hair was down and in waves, and her black satin top flowed nicely, thankfully not wrinkled. The dark denim, her favourite pair of jeans, she wore fit her perfectly, and her black heels completed the ensemble.

If she was going to do the Four Seasons, she was going to look good. 'Clever casual', as Brooke always called it. She insisted that 'smart casual' sounded 'pretentious', and that 'clever casual' sounded young and intriguing. Peyton could only shake her head at her best friend's logic sometimes.

Her cell rang on her desk, and she hurried over to answer, hoping to rush whoever it was off the phone so she could leave the building.

"Hey, are you still at your office?" Brooke asked frantically.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Peyton, I'm sorry. There's a disaster with our shipment in Milan, and I'm on the next flight out," Brooke said apologetically. "I'm on my way to JFK right now. I have to cancel drinks."

"It's OK. Go save your shipment," Peyton said with a laugh.

"Well, I have the reservation, so...you should still go," Brooke said.

"Drinks alone at the Four Seasons? No thanks," Peyton said.

"I didn't tell you to go alone."

"Brooke, I don't have anyone else to..." She clued in to what Brooke was saying, and she started shaking her head, though her friend couldn't see it. "No. No way!"

"Admit that you want to," Brooke said temptingly.

"No, I don't," Peyton insisted. "I _really_ don't."

"Just do it!" Brooke cried in frustration. "Please. Now...I have to go. I'll talk to you soon!"

"Brooke!"

"Ciao!"

"Brooke!" Peyton tried again, but the line went dead. "That bitch keeps hanging up on me!"

She dropped her phone onto her desk and ran her fingers through her hair, wondering if she should really do what she was thinking of doing. Stupid Brooke and her stupid suggestions and her stupid knack for planting seeds.

Maybe a couple drinks with him wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he wasn't as horrible as she thought. Maybe he wouldn't get the wrong idea if she asked him.

But then, she thought, he seemed to have 'the wrong idea' all the time. She wasn't sure she wanted to encourage that.

Ignoring the fact that everything in her mind and body was screaming at her not to, she found herself walking down the hall towards his office.

What the hell was she doing? She'd already bought him a coffee that day. Surely, he was going to read these signals all wrong. They _weren't_ signals. She just had a reservation, and she didn't want to break it, and he was the only one around.

She'd been avoiding his end of the office since he moved in there. Not that she ever really needed to go down there that often anyway, but she didn't want to encourage him, and she didn't want him staring at her as she passed.

She was just approaching his office door when she heard him speaking harshly to someone.

"Well, you'll just have to tell him to revise the epilogue, then!" Lucas shouted into the phone.

She peered in tentatively, and he held up his index finger to let her know he'd be with her in a minute.

She'd never been in his office before, though she wondered how that was. It had been a little over two weeks - almost three full weeks, actually - since he'd been working there. She just didn't have any reason to be in there until that moment.

He was sitting back in his chair, his broad shoulders tense, she could tell, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, have Adam call me first thing tomorrow morning. I'll sort it all out," he promised whoever was on the other end of the line. "I'm not compromising on this." He shot Peyton an apologetic smile. "Alright. Bye."

"Looks like your day's ending how mine started," she said once he'd hung up the phone.

"Fuck. You have no idea," he mumbled, shaking his head.

He watched her as she looked around his office. Basically, he had three walls of full bookshelves and one wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. He had a large wooden desk, and black leather chairs, and she could see that his desk was piled with papers.

"It's kind of cool in here," she said quietly. "I feel like I'm in a library."

"It's alright," he said with a shrug, sitting back in his chair. He crossed his legs, resting one ankle on his knee as he watched her walk around. "You look sexy."

"Oh." She glanced down at herself. "Thanks."

"Going somewhere?"

He didn't really know why she was standing there, looking through his book collection, which she was probably just then realizing was alphabetized meticulously - by author, then chronologically by their works. But he liked her in his office. He liked things on his terms.

"Actually, yeah," she said. "Um...I have a reservation at the Four Seasons. Actually, I was supposed to meet someone, but that fell through."

"A date?" he asked with a raised brow.

"No," she said.

"Good."

"_Anyway_," she said, rolling her eyes, "I kind of don't want to give up the reservation, and since you're here..."

"You want me to join you," he said, smirking in accomplishment.

"If you want." She shrugged one shoulder and he raised his eyebrow.

"A date?" he repeated.

"No," she stated with finality.

He stood and reached for his jacket off the coat rack in the corner of the room, pulling it over his shoulders.

"We'll see," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "Lead the way, Miss Sawyer."

"You don't know where the Four Seasons is?" she asked incredulously.

"Sure I do. I just like watching you walk in front of me," he said.

"You're making me regret asking you to come," she said, turning to him.

"You didn't ask me to come. You asked me to join you for a drink. If you'd asked me to come, I'd be moving a hell of a lot faster," he said, laughing when her jaw dropped. "Relax, Peyton. I'm not going to take advantage of you."

"I think you are already," she said as they reached the elevator.

"I'm not that kind of guy," he stated, stepping into the lift behind her.

"I don't know what kind of guy you are," she reminded him.

"But you want to find out, don't you?" He smirked when she rolled her eyes again. "It's OK. Lots of people do."

"How do you function when you're so arrogant?" she asked.

"Actually, it's easier than one might think," he said, and she laughed. A genuine laugh at something he said.

Yes, he was wearing her down. Definitely.

----

They sat at The Bar at the Four Seasons, and he was entranced by the way she held her martini glass. She'd twirl the stem, or her finger would run along the rim. He made a mental note of that drink - dry gin martini with a twist - just in case. Women loved it when men remembered the little things like that. In his experience, anyway.

The conversation had been quiet, and he didn't know what to think about that. She seemed a little nervous, and he knew that had everything to do with him.

"So, where did you grow up?" he asked. Neutral ground. That would work.

"North Carolina."

"Really? You don't have an accent or anything," he pointed out.

"I can," she said with a shrug. He raised one eyebrow at her.

"Is that a promise?" he asked.

Maybe not so neutral.

"What about you?" she asked, avoiding his flirtation, as she always seemed to be doing. "How come you never left New York."

"I leave New York plenty. I just always come back," he said before taking a sip of his scotch. "I used to travel a lot. I'd run off to all these places hoping that one of them would feel like where I needed to be, you know? Like I was looking for the place that felt like it was where I belonged."

"And you ended up right back here."

"Predictable and cliché as it is, yes," he said, laughing into his glass.

"I think home is kind of a romantic notion," she mused. He looked at her with something akin to wonder, and she continued. "I just mean, it's this thing we build up in our heads that we think represents comfort and security and...fresh baking or Sunday breakfast." She shrugged one shoulder and looked to her glass. "I think home is just a place you sleep."

"It's unfortunate that you think that," he said softly. "Maybe you just haven't found your home yet."

He had her there. She'd never thought of that before.

She was quiet as she looked away from him and took a sip of her drink.

He studied the curve of her collar bone, and the irresistibly smooth-looking skin of her neck, and way her hair always seemed to be perfect. She was something to behold, and he was starting to think she was much more than just a conquest. And that was what she had been at first - not that it was ages ago when he first met her. He wasn't too proud to admit that he'd just thought she was attractive and wanted to sleep with her solely for that reason. Now, he thought, there was something more to it than that. He wasn't sure what it was.

"Can I ask what had you shredding your paper this morning?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

"You can ask..."

"But you won't answer. Right," he said with a chuckle. "You know, you're not an easy woman."

"Well, thank you," she said with her eyes narrowed.

"No! No. I meant...you're complex," he amended.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I have absolutely no fucking clue who you are," he said, shaking his head.

"But you want to, don't you?" she asked enticingly.

He shot her a lopsided smile, pursed his lips, and nodded at her slowly, as if to say, _Well played_.

"You mind ordering me another?" she asked, standing from her place. "I'm just going to run to the ladies' room."

"Sure," he said.

"Don't watch me walk away," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Now, _why_ would you think I'd do something like that?" he asked, feigning innocence and smirking at her.

"Because," she started, leaning forward to speak into his ear, "you may think you're subtle, but you haven't taken your eyes off me all night."

"Guilty," he said as she pulled away.

She was a fucking queen. And the best part was, he knew she had absolutely no idea.

She threw him a glance over her shoulder as she walked through the bar, and he could only shake his head. For a woman who insisted - both with and without words - that she didn't wan to have anything to do with him, she sure seemed to be flirting a lot.

Well, at least a little.

They talked about work once she returned to the him. She told him how much she'd grown, and what she'd learned, and how many artists she'd signed since she started working at the label. He told her that all his favourites were her artists, and she blushed like it was the best compliment she'd ever received.

He listed off his favourite books - ones published in recent years through the publishing company he'd worked for since his early 20's, and classics. She told him her favourite book was one called _Fall On Your Knees_, by a Canadian author, and he finished the author's name before she could.

She smiled again.

He could get used to that.

She explained her plans for the A&R department, and how when the new budgets came out, with the extra funds she'd requested and been promised, she was sure she could do some amazing things. He hung onto her every word.

"Oh God," she said, glancing at the clock. "It's nearly 11:00."

"So?"

"So, I have to work tomorrow. _We_ have to work tomorrow," she reminded him.

"The night doesn't have to end here," he murmured, moving towards her so her crossed legs were brushing the inside of his thigh.

"I think it does, Lucas," she said softly.

"You _think_ it does?" he asked with a raised brow.

"We work together," she stated. "We're coworkers."

"Uh huh," he said, letting his fingertips graze the seam of the outside of her jeans just below her knee. He was very well aware that she wasn't saying she didn't want to go home with him.

"I'm not doing this," she said firmly. "Lucas, this isn't me."

"I think it is," he said. "I think you're scared."

"Insulting me isn't going to get me in your bed."

"What will?" he asked cheekily. She tilted her head and glared at him. "Sorry."

"No, you're not." She laughed when he shrugged his shoulder lazily. "This has been nice, but...that's all it is."

"OK," he said, withdrawing his hand from her leg, and moving so they weren't touching at all. He wasn't spurned, he just figured he'd have to put in a little more work. He was no stranger to work.

He pulled his wallet from his pocket and tossed down enough to cover their drinks, and a very generous tip, and she smiled at him again. She really needed to stop doing that.

"You don't have to pay," she insisted. She had to admit, she was a little surprised at how easily and calmly and gracefully he took her (what could only be called) rejection.

"I'm paying," he said firmly. "I'm a gentleman."

"Really?" she asked dryly. She stood from her place and threw her bag over her shoulder.

"Most of the time," he said with a shrug. "Come on. I'll get you into a cab."

Maybe he was a gentleman. He walked her to the curb and opened the door for her, and he kissed her cheek sweetly.

Maybe she was wrong about him. He seemed passionate about his work, and she liked that. He knew what he was doing, and it was clear he wasn't just in the workforce to look like he wasn't spoiled. Maybe he really _wasn't_ spoiled. He spoke of books like they were loves of his life, much the way she spoke of albums. She thought they might have more in common than she'd originally thought.

"Goodbye, Lucas," she said through the open window of the cab.

"See you tomorrow, Peyton." He winked before the car pulled away.

So that evening hadn't gone exactly how he'd wanted it to, but considering he was lucky to even have an evening out with her, he would take what he could get.

He wasn't going to stop trying with her. Something wouldn't let him.


	3. Chapter 3

Peyton had a session at a studio with one of her artists a few days after she and Lucas shared drinks and that one evening together. He'd left a coffee on her desk the morning after, and she'd smiled. That was a fun little inside thing they had. OK, two coffees didn't mean it was a 'thing'. Whatever, she thought. It was sweet of him to bring her a coffee. He'd made sure she knew who it was from, too, by writing his name on the side of the Starbucks cup in the box marked 'custom - special'. She had to laugh.

She was standing in the studio, tapping her foot to the only partially produced track that was playing, when her phone rang. It was the office number, and she assumed it was just her assistant calling with a message or an urgent call.

She was wrong.

"You aren't here," a disappointed Lucas said.

"Um...I'm aware of that," she said, excusing herself from the room. She stepped into the hallway, and she realized she was smiling again. "Why are you calling me?"

"You aren't here," he repeated. "The best part of my day is always seeing what you're wearing in the morning."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious," he said, his voice low. She could practically picture him sitting in his office, leaning back in his chair and looking out the window over the city.

"I'll be there in an hour," she said with a laugh. She was teasing him. They both knew it.

"Too long. Tell me now," he demanded.

"I am _not_ doing that," she hissed.

"Come on. Live a little."

"I notice that my living a little has you reaping the benefits," she said, deadpan.

"It's win-win," he insisted.

"We...this...you and me..."

"That sounds good. Yeah. Let's do that," he interrupted.

"You're incorrigible," she said with a laugh.

"Thank you."

"I didn't mean that in a good way," she told him.

"Either way. Now, what are you wearing?" he asked.

There was a shiver running down her spine that she desperately needed to get rid of. She figured the sooner she got off the phone with him, the sooner that would happen. And besides, he was going to see her at some point anyway, so what was the harm in telling him over the phone? Why did it have to seem dirty?

"Grey skirt..."

"The tight one?" he asked. "Mmm. Nice."

"Black silk top with red detail," she continued. "Black Louboutins."

"Sexy," he growled.

"Goodbye," she laughed.

"I'll see you later," he said just before she hung up. She could hear his smile.

She didn't know why she cared.

As soon as she stepped back into the studio, she received a text message from L. Scott. All that it read was, _'Picture?'._ She just shook her head and dropped her phone back into her bag. They both knew she wasn't sending him a damn picture.

And she kind of wanted to see the look on his face when she stepped into the office. She loathed to admit that that was always the best part of her day.

----

She had stopped into a Starbucks one Saturday morning, getting her usual Americano misto with cinnamon, when she saw a familiar face walk by. She knew that if she wasn't at Brooke's place in a 15 minutes, she'd be in some serious trouble. But she couldn't just not say hi. Especially not when he was walking right towards her with a smirk on his face.

She knew exactly why. She was in ripped jeans, Converse sneakers, and just a loose fitting tank top. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she had a pair of Gucci sunglasses perched atop her head. He'd never seen her in plain clothes before.

"Lucas," she said casually. "Hi."

"Hey, Peyton," he said, looking her up and down. "This is my brother, Nathan. Nathan, this is my coworker, Peyton."

"Nice to meet you," Nathan said, shaking her hand.

"Yeah. You too," she said politely. "What are you doing here? I mean...it's Starbucks, so I can assume, but..."

"Nathan's place is just around the block," Lucas explained. "You live around here?"

"Sort of. I'm just on my way to my best friend's place," she said. "This is kind of in between. It's nice out, so I thought I'd walk."

"Yeah, we're going to the Yankees game," Lucas said. "Hey, Nate, you wanna get me just a tall coffee?"

"Sure. Good to meet you again," Nathan said as he joined the queue.

"So, that's Nathan," Peyton stated once she and Lucas were standing alone.

"Yeah," Lucas said distractedly. "Honestly, I think you're just going to look fucking amazing in anything, aren't you?"

"Stop it," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Seriously. This is borderline harassment."

"You like it, though, so not really," he said, laughing when she just raised an eyebrow at him. He so had her.

"Well, I have to run. I'm meeting Brooke," she said. She noticed the pensive look on his face; like he was trying to piece something together. "What?"

"Brooke Davis?" he asked with a smirk.

Fuck. That fucking interview. She was such an idiot! How could she have forgotten about that? And how had he guessed that Brooke Davis was the Brooke she was talking about? Maybe he had already known, and was just looking for the confirmation. He was Lucas Scott, after all. She thought it safe to assume that perhaps he'd done a little groundwork.

But this flirtation had been going on for a while, and maybe it wasn't the worst thing if he knew the truth about those words Brooke had spoken; the identity of the girl she was talking about.

"She's my best friend," Peyton said softly. He just smiled and nodded knowingly, and winked at her before she waved and turned to walk away.

Lucas joined Nathan in line and the dark haired brother watched that blonde woman slip her glasses over her eyes, check for traffic, and rush off across the street before a cab sped past.

"So that's the girl, huh?" Nathan asked with a knowing smile, his arms across his chest. "She's hot."

"Fuck. She's amazing," Lucas said, making Nathan chuckle. "Seriously. She kills me."

"Why aren't you sleeping with her yet?" Nathan asked.

"She's playing hard to get. Or she _is_ hard to get," Lucas said, shaking his head.

"Either way, you're not getting it. Gotcha," Nathan said, laughing when Lucas squinted at him. "Just move on, man. She's hot, but...if she's not giving it up, then what's the point?"

"Nathan, I'm not you. I don't just bed girls, then toss them away," Lucas said harshly.

"First of all, don't say 'bed'. That's so lame," Nathan said with a laugh. "And whatever. Do what you've gotta do. I know you won't be yourself until you have sex with her. So...go for it."

"I dunno, Nate. It's different with this one," Lucas said seriously.

Nathan didn't say anything, because he really didn't know what to say. Lucas was different than him, sure, but he didn't ever remember hearing his brother say anything like that about a woman before.

But Peyton _was_ different, and Lucas knew exactly why. She didn't care about him. That was harsh. It wasn't that she didn't care about him, she just didn't care about all the other things that other women seemed to care about. Money and his title and the clothes he wore. Who his father was, and who his brother was, and that he had a 5th Avenue apartment.

Peyton didn't care. She clearly wasn't falling at his feet, and most of the time, she seemed downright irate with him. He loved it.

Lucas pulled out his phone once they were on the sidewalk again, scrolling down until he got to her name. He sent her a text message that he thought just might make her smile. He also thought it might be just cute enough to get him ahead a little more.

_'Nice jeans. Best part of my day...'_

She was just walking up to Brooke's building when she got his text message.

She was in so much trouble.

It was new, this whole not despising him thing. It was new and almost nice. She wondered if she'd completely misjudged him. Maybe he wasn't the insufferable cad she'd made him out to be. Maybe he wasn't the spoiled son of the city's most prominent and ruthless real estate developer.

Maybe he was just a man. A media-made playboy, but not actually a playboy in real life.

"Hey, best friend," Brooke said with a smile as she pulled the door open. "I missed you!"

"I missed you, too. Tell me you brought me something from Milan," Peyton insisted as the girls embraced.

"Sweetheart, would I go to Italy and _not_ bring you the not-even-released-yet black leather Prada boots?" Brooke asked, barely able to keep her own excitement in check.

"What?!" Peyton cried.

"They're so beautiful I can hardly stand it," Brooke said, pulling the box from the bag and up onto the table. She opened the box and both girls eyed the boots dreamily.

"Brooke. I can't."

"Yes, you can," Brooke said. "But only because I got myself a pair, too. They're all yours."

"I love them. I love _you_!" Peyton cried. "Thank you."

"And I may have a P. Sawyer inspired black satin cocktail dress from my new couture line just waiting for you to wear," Brooke said seriously. "The seamstress is putting the finishing touches on it for you, and it'll be ready by Wednesday."

"Brooke!"

"Shut up. I'm famous. I can give my friends whatever I want to give them," Brooke said, waving her hand in the air dismissively. "Now," she said, pulling Peyton towards the sofa, "tell me about what happened with you and Lucas while I was away."

"Nothing!"

"You answered too quickly. If you had sex with him and aren't telling me, we are _not_ best friends anymore," Brooke threatened.

"We didn't sleep together," Peyton said, shaking her head. "He wanted to."

"Of course he did." Brooke shrugged her shoulder and kinked her brow. "Look at you."

"Anyway," Peyton laughed, "we went for drinks, and there's been...a flirtation."

"A _flirtation_? Why haven't you ripped his clothes off?" Brooke asked. She couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice. Peyton was too damned reserved sometimes. "No. Wait. Why haven't you ripped _your_ clothes off?"

"Because we work together!" Peyton cried. "But I just ran into him and his brother this morning, actually."

"Nathan Scott," Brooke mused whimsically, with a little sigh. At Peyton's incredulous look, Brooke elaborated. "He's probably the hottest guy I've ever seen."

"He's alright," Peyton said nonchalantly.

"Right. You're in love with his brother."

"I'm not in love with Lucas!" Peyton shouted. "God. I just...he's..."

"What?" Brooke asked encouragingly.

"He's so _fucking_ sexy," Peyton admitted, shaking her head. Brooke giggled with glee, making Peyton laugh. "Wait. If you are so attracted to Nathan, how come you mentioned Lucas in that interview thing?"

"Because I was meddling," Brooke said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And the trip to Milan was planned weeks ago, I just didn't tell you, so you'd be forced to take Lucas out for drinks."

"Bitch!" Peyton cried. But she was smiling. "How'd you know I'd take him?"

"Because he's so fucking sexy," Brooke retorted, with an eyebrow raised and that dimple on her cheek on full display.

Peyton didn't have a response for that.

The girls spent the rest of their day catching up and talking about Brooke's trip and Peyton's week, and making dinner plans for the following week. Brooke pleaded for Peyton to somehow get her an 'in' with Nathan Scott, and Peyton laughed and wondered how Brooke and Nathan hadn't slept together yet, since they were both notorious to the lounge - not party - scene in New York. Brooke just shrugged and said she'd never even seen him anywhere before.

Peyton knew that if she set Brooke and Nathan up somehow, that would mean a double date.

And she thought that if she were going to go on a 'date' with Lucas, she sure as hell wasn't going to have anyone other than just the two of them be there.

----

When Peyton strode into her office on Monday morning, she noticed how eerily quiet it was. It was early, and she loved it when the building was quiet. It meant fewer interruptions and she tended to get a lot more work done before the rest of the employees showed up.

That morning, however, the first thing she noticed on her desk was a thick, plastic covered folder.

The budgets were out.

She smiled to herself, thinking her day was starting off great. It wasn't until she sat down and opened the folder that she realized that it wasn't starting off great.

In fact, it was starting off really terribly.

She marched to the corner office, to the president of the company's office, and barged in without a word to his assistant.

"What the hell is this?!" she cried, holding up the proposal in her hand as she stormed into her boss' office.

"The new budget outlines," the man behind the desk responded.

"Yeah. I got that. _Why_ has my budget been _cut_?" she asked hotly.

"We rearranged some funds," he explained. "The publishing side needed a little capital. It'll all come back to you."

It was then that she noticed Lucas sitting in the office on the sofa, the very same proposal perched on his lap as he sat with one ankle resting on his knee. He looked far too calm, given that she'd just barged in and interrupted a meeting, with her very far gone temper.

"Is this _your_ doing?" she asked angrily, her attention focused on him. "You pretentious _ass_." She turned back to their boss. "Steve, you can't be serious! Sales are on the rise, and we need the money to..."

"I'm aware, Peyton. Sales will continue to rise. We want the same to happen with our printed products," Steve rationalized.

"This is bullshit, and you both know it," she seethed. She pointed at Lucas with the document in her hands. "You better make your money _fast_, because if _my_ artists suffer as a result of you experimenting with how much pull you have at this company, you _will_ regret it."

She shot Steve one last disappointed look, and shook her head as she pulled the door to the office open harshly and let it slam behind her.

Both men sat for a moment, a little rattled by the scene that had just taken place, before their eyes met.

"Lucas, I apologize," Steve said eagerly.

"No, no," Lucas insisted. "You can't say she's lacking in passion."

"That's one way to put it," Steve laughed. "That's what makes her great at what she does."

"I'll bet," Lucas said softly. "I'm sorry. If I'd known the change was going to cause fireworks..."

"Nonsense. Your proposal had legs, so we went with it. If all goes well, she won't even notice," Steve said. "She'll calm down."

"You sure?" Lucas asked with a nervous laugh as he stood from his place.

"No," Steve admitted. "Just hoping."

Lucas took a deep breath and nodded to his boss before leaving the office.

The entire walk to his own office, he wracked his brain, trying to figure out how to explain everything to Peyton. She was beyond pissed, and the look in her eyes told him that he'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again. He hated that it had to come to that, but he'd been thinking of the company, and he knew that if there was extra money to be going around, the publishing side was where it was needed. The label would be fine. He just had to convince her of that. He wasn't privy to explaining the details as to why the funds were rearranged.

This wasn't going to be easy.

She was pacing his office - something he hadn't expected - when he stepped inside. Thankfully, she waited until he'd shut and locked the door before she spoke. He was thankful that all the offices in the building were essentially soundproof.

"You manipulative jackass," she said, at a dangerously low level. "You used me."

"I didn't use you for anything," he scoffed.

"You took money from my pocket! I'm sure you went in there with that little bee in your bonnet..."

"Bug in my ear," he corrected. Stupidly, he realized. The look she gave him was terrifying.

"Whatever!" she cried. "And you convinced him to give _you_ that money instead of me. You're a fucking...You're worse than a spy!"

"Spies aren't always bad."

The way she glared at him made him believe that he was handling this entirely the wrong way.

"OK, are you even _capable_ of feeling remorse? You know how excited I was about everything. You just...you pulled the rug out from under me!" she shouted.

"Stop yelling at me," he demanded, walking towards her.

"Not until you admit that you screwed me so you could get what you want," she said, pointing at him sharply.

"Honey, if I had screwed you, you wouldn't need a verbal confirmation," he said as he placed his hands on his hips.

"You're fucking infuriating," she said coldly.

"You've got a potty mouth," he said in amusement, his eyes shining as he smirked at her.

"I hope you fail," she admitted harshly. "I hope you can't do what you set out to do, just so I can look you in the eye and say I told you so."

"You'll get your money back," he promised.

"So you admit that you took it?" she asked haughtily. Her eyes were narrowed as she glared at him. His body language said it all, but her eyes bored into him as she waited for confirmation.

"I did what I had to do for my company," he said diplomatically. "It's just business."

"It was business, until you seduced me..."

"I didn't _seduce_ you."

"You had me believing you were a decent guy. That's a seduction," she said seriously. "You took me out, outside of office hours, and you..."

"_You_ took _me_ out!" he cried. "And you're the one who opened your mouth and told me everything."

"You didn't have to use it to your advantage!" she shot back. "God. You're just..._so_ selfish."

"This is what's best for the company. As a whole. That means the label, too," he said, hoping to convince her. "I promise you that, Peyton."

"You know what? I don't care about you or your promises," she said in defeat. "You're nothing but an arrogant daddy's boy who always got everything he ever wanted without having to lift a finger."

"That's not true," he said defensively. He fucking hated when people said that. He'd worked damn hard to get where he was.

"It is true." She was still glaring at him. He still found her the sexiest woman in the world. He started walking towards her, as if some magnetic pull was forcing him to. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," he said with a shake of his head.

"I _hate_ you."

"No. You don't," he repeated a little more firmly, taking another step towards her. She backed up blindly, and her back met the bookshelf in his office, and she took a sharp breath.

"Don't," she demanded.

He just shook his head and placed one hand on her waist as the other buried in her hair, pulling her towards him desperately as he crashed his lips to hers. She protested at first, letting out a noise and trying to push him away, but he pressed his body to hers and she let herself kiss him back.

She had absolutely no idea why.

He pressed his hips to hers, and she moaned into his kiss at the feel of him against her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and he felt her finally wrap her arms around his neck. He hastily pushed up the fabric of her skirt, and she lifted her leg, brushing against him in the process. She could feel his hardness through his trousers, and she'd never wanted anything more in her life.

But she hated him.

Except he was an amazing kisser, and the way he was attacking her neck had her spinning, and each time he moved his hips against her, he let out a gruff sound that was so sexy, she could barely stand it.

His mouth found hers again, and she let him kiss her until she was sure he was almost too far gone.

And then she pushed him away.

"I hate you," she whispered. He smirked at her. She told him she hated him - repeatedly, actually - and he _smirked_ at her.

"If you hate me, then why's your leg wrapped around my waist?" he asked seductively. His hand trailed up her thigh and beneath the fabric of her skirt, and she had to struggle to keep her breathing even.

"Because it feels good," she answered evenly after a moment.

That was the exact answer he wanted.

He pressed himself into her a little more, and she let out a soft whimper and closed her eyes momentarily.

"Does hating me feel good, too?" he asked, his lips grazing the shell of her ear.

"Hating you feels better than anything I've ever done," she said, locking eyes with him. She saw anger there for only a moment, then amusement. She was convinced there was no breaking his armour.

"I'm sure I could change that."

"You'd like to try."

"I'd fucking _love_ to try," he corrected her.

His hand cupped her bottom - pleased to find that she was wearing only a very tiny thong - before he moved away from her. He'd leave her wanting more. He was in control, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was aching for him almost as much as he was aching for her.

Maybe more.

OK, not more at all. God, she was perfect. She fit his body, and she was a hell of a kisser, and those little noises she kept making only made him harder. He knew she was trying to tease him, and damn her, she was succeeding.

But he wouldn't let her know that.

She set her foot back on the floor, her heel clacking against the hardwood, and she straightened out her skirt.

"You're not walking away," he noted smugly. He stared at her and crossed his arms.

She wanted to slap him. God, he was arrogant.

"I need a moment to compose myself," she said, glaring at him. "I can't leave here looking like I've been ravished on your desk."

"That sounds fun."

"You're impossible," she said in frustration. "Don't talk to me for the rest of the day."

"Just today?" he inquired.

"Well, I was going to say ever, but I figured I should start small," she said, smiling with fake sweetness. "Goodbye, Lucas."

"See you soon, Peyton."

It wasn't lost on her that every time she said goodbye, he'd feel the need to remind her that it, in fact, wasn't goodbye.

Just another reason to hate him.


	4. Chapter 4

Peyton entered her office the next day to see a beautiful bouquet of white roses on her desk.

And they looked absolutely stunning in her office with its red walls.

She called to her assistant, but the girl didn't answer, and Peyton remembered she'd sent Mia out for coffees for the band coming to meet with her in - Oh God - 10 minutes.

She plucked the card from the arrangement of flowers, and read only the words _'I'm Sorry' _in a distinctive handwriting.

If _he_ thought sending a few flowers - no matter how beautiful they were - would make everything alright again, he was sorely mistaken. She couldn't be wooed with cliché gestures, and he certainly couldn't buy her. He did a horrible thing to her, and no matter how many times he tried to tell her that it was good for the company, she wasn't buying it. It was good for Lucas, and he didn't give a damn about anything else. Any_one_ else.

She got the feeling he'd only sent her flowers in hopes that she'd still perhaps want to sleep with him.

And there was no way in hell that was ever happening.

Things shouldn't have gotten as far as they had the day before in his office. She had told herself at the time that she just wanted to tease him, then leave him high and dry as some sort of payback. She had realized very quickly after leaving his office still weak in the knees, that she was kissing him because she had wanted to.

She wouldn't do it again. It was a moment of weakness. A need to do something just because it had been plaguing her. It wouldn't happen again. No matter how fucking good it had felt.

She picked those flowers up out of the vase, letting the water drip from the stems, and she marched down the hall towards Lucas' office. It was still early, so there were only a few people milling around at his end of the building, and he looked up from his desk when he heard his door open.

She strode over to him and, with the tip of her toe, nudged his trash can out from beneath his desk, dropping the roses into the bin without a word.

He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. She didn't say anything, either. He could only sigh and throw his head back in frustration after she'd left again.

He'd really, really fucked everything up.

----

Peyton ignored Lucas as best she could in the coming days. It wasn't easy at first. The easy flirtation they'd begun was actually kind of hard to quit. The day he'd shown up in a deep chocolate brown three piece suit - vest, tie and all - she could barely control herself.

It would have been a hell of a lot easier if he hadn't been such a damn good kisser. She could almost still feel the way his hand felt beneath her skirt, and how he nipped at the skin of her neck.

But all that was over. He'd ruined everything with his dirty business tactics, and she wouldn't be played by him. She'd felt liberated when she dropped those roses in his trash can, and she - however hard it had been - had successfully avoided even looking at him after that.

OK, that was a lie. She had looked. She just hadn't let him _know_ she was looking. That was a step in the right direction.

And she wanted to tease him a little - or a lot, depending on how much she thought of his deceit as she chose her clothing each morning. The day she walked into the office wearing a tight black satin skirt, a green top, and those new Prada boots, she thought the poor boy was going to have a heart attack.

Mission accomplished.

Moments after she'd entered her office and sat down to start her day, he sent her a single email with a blank subject line and only two words in the body of the message.

_Not fair_.

But if the guy was going to screw with her, she was going to screw with him.

She worked late that evening, and she'd pulled her hair up after all her employees had left and she was still in the office, running numbers and doing paperwork while listening to the vocal scratch track for one of her new acts. She heard another person walking around in the building, but she didn't think much of it. In a company of about 100 people, someone was always working late.

When she finally gathered her thinks and turned off the light in her office, she started towards the elevator, not realizing that Lucas was standing there waiting at the same time. How in the hell did that always happen?

"Stay away from me," she warned coldly when she saw him glance at her.

"I have been," he reminded her.

"Well...keep doing it."

"You make it pretty fucking hard," he mumbled, looking her up and down.

"How hard it is for you is your problem, not mine," she said, undisguised double entendre in her words.

As soon as she'd spoken the words, she wished things were different.

She hated that.

She didn't want to be attracted to him. She really didn't. God, things would be so much easier if he wasn't wearing that cologne, and his navy blue suit didn't bring out his eyes, and his hair wasn't perfectly styled.

"And whose fault is that?" he asked.

"Stop it," she demanded. "Don't blame me. And don't imply that my sleeping you was a given."

He wanted to argue. He really wanted to. They both probably knew he would have won.

The elevator arrived and she stepped on, and she seriously thought of pressing the 'door close' button before he could enter.

He was quiet, because he didn't know what to say. Never had a woman had the power to make him as speechless as this one.

They had ridden down five floors before he got the nerve to tell her.

"Steve asked me what I thought of him promoting you to Vice-President of the label," he said, and her head snapped over to look at him. "I told him it'd be the smartest business decision he could make."

"I don't need you doing me favours," she said, clutching the strap of her bag so hard that her knuckles went white.

This was the job she'd been waiting for, for years. She had always said that if she could make VP, she'd have succeeded in what she had been trying to do for years. She really didn't want Lucas to have any part of that, but she knew that one phrase from him to their boss wouldn't mean as much as her body of work.

God, she wanted that job.

"Just say thank you," he said, unable to hide his irritation.

"Oh, so you undermine me, ruin my plans for all the things you _knew_ I wanted to do, then you say one nice thing and I'm supposed to be grateful? Sorry. I wasn't aware," she said sarcastically.

"I apologized."

"No, you didn't," she said softly, watching the numbers count down until they were at their destination.

"What?" asked with a furrowed brow.

"You didn't apologize," she said.

She glanced at him just as the elevator hit the ground floor, and he was confused, she could tell. She wasn't going to explain it to him. He'd never said the words. She wasn't sure it would have made a difference if he had.

She stepped out of the elevator and started to walk away, but he rushed forward and grasped her elbow. She glanced between his hand and his face like he was doing the worst possible thing by touching her, and that simple look stung him more than anything else.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

She blew out her breath and shook her head before she wrenched her arm from his hold and walked away.

All he could do was stand there and watch as her hips swayed and those boots carried her out the door and down the street, out of sight.

----

She was out for drinks one Friday night at a new lounge with Brooke, and she really didn't want to be there. The brunette had insisted that Peyton get out and wear something sexy and smile at some men.

So Peyton slipped into a strapless red dress and a pair of black heels. She swept her hair up, and she climbed into Brooke's limo when it pulled up outside her apartment.

"Tonight is going to be epic," Brooke said excitedly, pouring Peyton a glass of Champagne.

"Epic? Brooke, don't say epic," Peyton laughed. "But...it'll be fun."

They clinked their glasses and downed their Champagne in the amount of time it took to drive the 15 blocks to this bar they were going to. Peyton stepped out of the limo and onto the sidewalk, and then Brooke, in her black dress and red patent leather shoes, linked her arm through her friend's and started towards the door. Brooke said her name like it was a badge of honour, and the bouncer lifted the velvet rope for the women.

They each ordered a drink, opting for martinis in favour of more Champagne, and stood by the bar to survey the room. The place was cool. Dark furniture, and inventive lighting, and a good DJ, Peyton noted.

And then she saw him. Them. The two Scott brothers. Lucas with a glass of scotch in his hand, and Nathan with a beer.

Fuck.

"Brooke," she hissed, nudging her friend's arm. "Lucas and Nathan are here."

"Nathan is here?" Brooke asked with wide eyes.

"I don't _care_ about him! _Lucas_ is here!" she repeated, her eyes boring into Brooke's.

"Oh. Right. So have a couple drinks, leave together, and forget that you're mad at him for trying to bring you down, or...whatever it is that's got you so pissed," Brooke said nonchalantly. "I'm going to meet Nathan Scott. You're introducing me."

"I'm _not_ going over there!" Peyton insisted. "No way."

"Peyton Sawyer," Brooke said, her tone serious as she stepped directly in front of her friend. "You are better than him. And if you aren't, you're sure as hell going to make him think that you are. Now take the high road, walk over there with me, and introduce me to the man I'm going home with tonight!"

Peyton laughed at the way Brooke worded that command, and she shook her head. She then downed her martini, gestured to the bartender for another one, and when it arrived, she rolled her eyes at Brooke and started off towards the two Scott brothers.

Lucas was surprised to see Peyton, to say the least. She really wished she could say he didn't look good, but he did. He always did. He was in just a pair of grey slacks and a black button-down shirt, but he somehow made that look just about as amazing as anything.

"Lucas, hi," she said, faking sweetness.

"Peyton," he managed. God, that dress was amazing. Red was definitely her colour.

"This is my best friend, Brooke Davis," she said, glancing at the brunette, who was already engaging in some pretty serious eye sex with Nathan. "Brooke, Lucas and Nathan Scott."

"Nice to meet you," Nathan said, the deep timbre of his voice already putting a blush on Brooke's cheeks.

Peyton rolled her eyes, and only Lucas saw, and when she took a sip of her martini, he could barely control himself.

Brooke and Nathan were chatting, and Peyton was ignoring Lucas, and it wasn't until the two brunettes walked off towards the bar that Lucas said anything to Peyton.

"Still trying to hate me?" he asked.

"Still trying to sabotage my career?" she spit back. It was a low blow, especially since he'd tipped her off bout making VP. Until that was official, however, she was going to hang onto that bitterness.

"OK, look," he said quickly, turning so he was facing her profile and he could speak into her ear. "I've tried with you. I apologized. I made assurances. I sent you fucking flowers. So you know what? You can say or do whatever you want. You and I are just coworkers. Our relationship will be professional and nothing more. You win."

"Good," she whispered.

She had to pretend that his voice in her ear and his breath on her skin didn't make her temperature rise. She had to.

"Fine," he said before walking off.

She missed him once he'd left her side.

When Brooke and Nathan returned moments later, both noted the absence of the fourth party, and Peyton quickly shook her head, indicating they not ask.

"I'm gonna go," Peyton said to Brooke once she'd downed the last of her drink.

"Peyton..."

"No, it's fine," she insisted. "Nathan, it was good to see you again."

"Yeah, you too," he said in confusion. Clearly, they'd missed something.

"Take the limo," Brooke said. Normally Peyton would argue. When she didn't, Brooke knew something was wrong.

"OK. I'll...call me tomorrow," Peyton requested, kissing Brooke on the cheek like they always did when they left each other. It was very Euro, Brooke insisted, and therefore, very posh.

"You OK?" Brooke whispered, grasping the blonde's wrist.

"Fine. I'm fine. I just...need to get out of here," she said.

Peyton offered one last weak wave to Nathan, who smiled sympathetically and watched her walk away, knowing something had obviously happened in the five minutes he and Brooke were gone.

"If your brother did anything to piss her off..."

"Piss her off more, you mean?" Nathan interrupted, and Brooke sighed and shook her head. "Sorry."

"Not your fault," she insisted. She liked that he was apologetic about it, at least.

"So, you sent your ride away," he noted, leaning closer to her. "How are you getting home?"

There was a hint of innuendo in his tone, and she just raised her brow.

"I'm not going home."

He'd take that answer.

----

As soon as Peyton stepped outside, she saw that familiar figure, his cell phone to his ear and his hand on his hip. She rolled her eyes and looked skyward, and hoped he wouldn't notice her before the limo pulled up.

Of course, luck wasn't on her side.

"You follow me?" he asked.

"You wish."

"We're done, remember?" he told her coldly.

"We never started, remember?" she retorted.

"Painfully," he mumbled. She almost smiled when she heard that. It seemed she hadn't been the only one left affected after that day in his office.

"Why are you still here?"

"Trying to get a cab," he said with a shrug.

"11:30 on a Friday night? Good luck," she scoffed.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, looking to his phone again.

She had no idea what made her do it. She really shouldn't have. But as much as she really wanted to hate him - and she kind of did - she couldn't just leave him stranded. Granted, it was Manhattan, and he could get on a bus or a subway if he needed, she had a limo to herself for the evening, and she was too kind and too generous not to help him out.

Even though he'd screwed her over, she thought ruefully.

"Get in," she said, gesturing to the black car as it pulled up.

"Excuse me?"

"Get in before I change my mind," she said, and he gave her an adorable half-smile.

"You first," he said, opening the door for her.

"Don't look at my ass," she warned him.

He almost thought they were back to that fun, sexy flirtation. Almost.

He raised his hands in surrender and looked away to keep himself from being tempted to take a peek. Besides, he'd already looked earlier. The image was burned into his mind.

He sat across from her, and she rest her elbow on the door, looking anywhere but at him. She didn't say a word, and he didn't know what to say, so it was just quiet.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted after ten minutes.

"The silence was working for me," she told him, still not looking at him.

"Well, it wasn't working for me," he said, anger dripping from his words.

"Of course not. It was actually comfortable and pleasant. Had to ruin that."

They weren't talking about the drive anymore, and he knew it.

He didn't know if she did.

"Peyton, I'm sorry, OK?" he said eagerly. He moved to the seat next to her, and she looked at him like that was the absolute worst thing he could have done. "I just want you to trust me that it'll work out."

"It's not about the money, Lucas!" she finally told him. "God. It's so not about the money."

"Then I don't get what you're so mad about!"

"I'm mad because you and I had this...friendship, or...whatever," she said, all flustered and adorable, he noticed. "You took information that I gave you, and you broke that trust. You can't expect me to just think you're a decent guy now."

"I didn't do it to hurt you," he explained softly.

"Well, it did," she whispered. "So...that's that."

"I'll get out here," he told the driver over the intercom.

"Luke..."

"It's fine. I'll walk," he insisted. "Goodnight."

"Lucas," she tried again.

"Peyton. It's fine. You don't believe me, and I guess I gave you reason not to. But...I am sorry," he said as the car came to a stop.

He leaned over to kiss her cheek, and she closed her eyes, relishing in that moment.

"And things aren't always as they seem," he said, locking eyes with he before he reached for the door handle.

"I know. I thought you..."

"No," he interrupted her. "That's not what I mean. You don't have to understand."

"Lucas."

"Goodnight, Peyton."

And then he stepped out, and she was left alone again and wondering why the hell she cared so much.

----

The following morning, after hardly any sleep at all, Peyton perched herself at the granite counter in the kitchen of her condo with a cup of coffee, and her phone in her hand.

She debated calling Brooke, but the morning after a hookup, you just never knew what you were going to hear.

So she sent a text, asking how Brooke's night was, and to let Peyton know she was OK. It certainly wasn't the first time one of these messages had been sent; the girls looked out for each other.

Peyton laughed when, moments later, she received a text back that merely said _'I'm fine'_. She sent another text, asking if that meant to send a search party, or if she was just still in Nathan's bed. Brooke replied, _'In bed. Will call later'._

And Peyton was a little jealous. Just a little. Not because of the sex, or the man Brooke had it with. But because Brooke had that ability to push everything else aside and just live in the moment.

The two of them had talked about Nathan, and how his reputation preceded him. He was known for being a spoiled rich boy who'd never lifted a finger in his life. He didn't work. He didn't do anything. A heart condition had kept him from doing the only thing he ever cared about - playing basketball - and he'd basically just stopped doing anything, choosing instead to live rather comfortably, to say the least, off his considerable trust fund.

None of that seemed to matter to Brooke. She saw a man she found attractive, and she went for it. If Peyton did that, she probably would have gone home with Lucas after the first day he spoke to her in her office.

But she wasn't like that, and she couldn't just ignore the fact that Lucas was completely insufferable and jump into his bed. Or his office. Or his car. Or wherever else might provide just enough privacy for her to do what she really wanted to do.

No matter how attracted to him she was, she hated him.

As long as she kept telling herself that, it was easy to actually almost believe it.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Updating two days in a row because this is seriously the most fun I've had writing in ages. And your reviews are incredible and make me want to post faster. (Is that my subtle way of reminding you to leave comments? Yes. Is the subtlety negated by explaining it as such? Yes.)

**----**

Peyton's promotion was announced on a Wednesday.

On Thursday, she moved into the office next to Lucas', a slightly bigger office, she noted. It was the senior employees' part of the building, and Peyton was thrilled to be there. Not so thrilled that she had to walk past Lucas' office to get to her own, or that he had to walk past hers several times a day for...whatever it was he was doing. She wondered if he was just strolling by to remind her how good he looked in his new black suit.

She was trying to reach the top of the shelf in her new office, to place display some awards up there, but she was simply too short. She refused to stand on a chair in her three inch heels and risk falling and hurting herself, and it was after work hours so there was no one around to ask for help.

Well, no one she wanted to talk to.

She could hear him, the next office over, shuffling papers and listening to soft jazz. She really didn't want to ask him. She _really_ didn't. She should just step out of her shoes and take her chances with standing on one of her new plush chairs.

She'd just kicked off her heels, sending them tumbling onto the floor and making a little noise, when Lucas walked by.

And he just couldn't stop himself.

"Undressing without me?"

She merely glared at him and started pushing her chair towards the shelf. She was well aware that he'd be looking at her ass as she leaned over to move the furniture, but she kind didn't care anymore. He could look all he wanted. The most he'd ever get from her, he'd already gotten that day in his office.

"What are you doing?" he asked, chuckling softly at the state of disarray her office was in. She was always so organized.

"Getting settled," she said. She placed one foot on the chair, and he let out a huff and walked towards her.

"You could just ask me to help you," he stated, taking the plaque from her hands and reaching up to set it atop the shelf. "Anything else?"

"I don't need your help," she said, crossing her arms.

"As much as I'd like to give you mouth to mouth, I don't need you falling off a chair and getting hurt when I'm the only one around," he told her, laughing when she rolled her eyes.

She pointed to a box of a few more items, and he began arranging them on top of the shelf. She wouldn't lie, she definitely noticed the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt. He was a strong man, there was no doubt - how she knew that didn't really matter - and she wouldn't deny he had an incredible body. She could look. That didn't mean she wanted to kiss him from his chest to his belly button.

Dammit. She did, though. Just every once in a while he'd do something, and she'd have an intensely vivid daydream that required the two of them and very little - if any - clothing.

"A little to the left," she said patronizingly. He chuckled and did as he was told, then looked at her with a raised brow, as if to ask if that placement was suitable. "Thanks."

It was mumbled, and he barely heard her, so he didn't say anything in response. He moved her chair back to its original position, then sat in it as she bent down to pick up her shoes. For a woman so intent on not giving into him, she certainly seemed to like to remind him of what he was missing out on.

"You have nice feet," he noted.

"You just don't quit, do you?" she asked in exasperation, rounding her desk to take a seat.

"You don't want me to," he challenged.

"Whatever you need to believe," she said softly.

"Looks good in here. Weird without the red walls," he said after a moment of looking around.

"They're painting this weekend," she told him, and they both smiled.

She began organizing files and placing things in her desk drawers, and she could feel his eyes on her the entire time. She needed to make conversation, or kick him out.

So she made conversation.

"Seems my best friend and your brother have really it off," she mentioned.

"They keep falling into bed together," Lucas laughed. "They're hardly a couple."

"Bet he didn't tell you they spend most of their time talking," she said with a raised brow, and his eyes went wide.

"That doesn't sound like Nathan."

"It doesn't sound like Brooke, either, but it's true," she said with a shrug. "Funny. Seems what you think of someone isn't always necessarily true."

He was hopeful for a moment. Could she be forgiving him?

"But then again, you already proved that theory for me," she said, placing her chin on her fist as her elbow rest on her desk. She smiled a fake smile, and he just smiled back. He was almost getting used to the verbal sparring they had going on.

"You're such a bitch," he said, and she raised one eyebrow.

"Is that supposed to make me enjoy your company?" she asked incredulously.

"Do you ever enjoy my company?" he asked.

"No," she answered simply.

"Then what have I got to lose?" he inquired, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees.

"So I get the pleasure of your comments free of charge?"

"I could charge you if you like. But if you're getting pleasure from it, that could be a little shady," he said, shrugging one shoulder.

"I don't think there's anything I can say to you that'll keep you from talking to me like I'm some slut in a bar," she said haughtily.

"I don't talk to sluts in bars."

"Let me guess. They talk to you," she said dryly.

"Sometimes. Sometimes there's no talking at all," he said, smirking at her as she scowled.

"You're disgusting."

"Relax. I was joking," he scoffed. "You're wound far too tightly, Peyton."

"Well, it won't be you who unwinds me," she said, locking eyes with him.

He didn't know why, but the thought of her sleeping with anyone but him - because, face it, that was what she was referring to - made him set his jaw and clench his fist.

She noticed it.

She adored it.

She loved that he wanted her so badly, that it killed him so much that he couldn't have her. She'd seen the way he kept looking at her during meetings. She'd seen the way his eyes lingered on her legs when she stood at the reception desk, idly letting her shoe hang from her foot as she talked to the girls at the front desk. She only did it when he was looking, and she knew exactly why.

She was a fucking tease, and it _killed_ him.

"What's the matter?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and devious smirk on her face. "Can't handle the thought of someone else touching me."

"Stop."

"Someone else kissing me?" she continued. She stood from her place and walked around so she was leaning back against her desk in front of him. "My leg wrapped around someone else's waist?"

"Peyton. I'm serious," he said through clenched teeth. He stood from his chair and took a step towards her, and she just looked at him with that same grin on her face. She was mocking him, and he didn't like it.

"Me calling out someone else's name?" she said quietly, her eyes meeting his.

He was in front of her in an instant, one arm wrapped around her waist and holding her close to his body. Her breathing was laboured, and he noticed that her eyes were darkened, and she looked just this side of scared. He'd moved quickly, and he was holding her almost too tightly, and his jaw was still set.

"Don't talk like that," he commanded.

"Let go of me," she said. Her words came out much softer than she intended them to. She had to assume that was simply because his body felt so incredible pressed against hers.

"I need to have you," he said gruffly, letting one hand trail across the top of her pants at the small of her back.

"No. You _want_ to have me. There's a difference," she said, finally having found her breath again.

"I'm not going to beg you."

His fingertips pushed up the fabric of her shirt, and his calloused hand caressed her hip, and she was almost begging him to beg her.

"Aww," she said patronizingly. "Aren't you already?"

He released her then, and turned away from her, putting distance between them.

She was an evil woman. She used every weapon at her disposal to make him absolutely miserable. He'd said she was different, and she was different, but he was beginning to think that Nathan was right. He wasn't going to be himself again until he slept with her. That she was making it perfectly clear that she didn't want to sleep with him? Well, that wasn't helping at all.

Her office phone rang, and she hit the speaker phone button, thankful for the distraction.

"Peyton, here," she spoke.

"Peyton? Why are you out of breath?" came Brooke's voice. "If you and Lucas are having sex on your desk right now..."

She reached for the receiver hastily, noting the sudden change in Lucas' demeanor. He was looking at her again, and smiling like he'd just completed phase one of his mission.

She had obviously talked to Brooke about him, or Brooke wouldn't have said what she'd just said. He wondered if she'd mentioned anything about sex on desks. If she'd mentioned it, she'd thought of it, and if she'd thought of it, she wanted him. She may not have know it, and it may have been hateful and lacking any really positive emotion, but she wanted him in some way, shape or form.

And_ God_, he wanted her.

He watched as she straightened out her top and walked back around the desk. She ran one hand through her hair as she listened and carried on her conversation, and she slipped her feet back into those heels she'd kicked off earlier.

And he didn't hear a fucking word she said.

"They're getting together tonight for dinner," she stated as she hung up the phone.

"Who?"

"Brooke and Nathan," she elaborated.

"Really?" he asked in complete, undisguised shock.

"She's as surprised as you are. We all thought he was a fuck 'em and chuck 'em type," Peyton said, tidying her desk.

"He is."

"Not anymore," Peyton said with a shrug.

She stood from her place and reached for her jacket, pulling it on with her back to him, and then she slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Going home?" he asked.

"I'm not making it a secret," she said sarcastically, looking down at her attire as she walked toward the door, leaving him in her wake.

"Are you walking?" he asked.

"No."

"Does that mean you're accepting my unspoken offer to drive you home?" he inquired as she stopped just outside his office. He stepped inside and grabbed his keys and phone off his desk, then switched off the light.

"No."

"But you're not rushing for the elevator to get away from me," he pointed out.

She didn't say anything until he was following her down the hall again, and she avoided eye contact when they arrived in the lobby of their office.

"I don't like riding elevators alone," she admitted. She didn't appreciate when he laughed.

"Are you serious?"

"It's creepy," she said, pressing the button for the lift. "You never know who's going to get on."

"Whereas if you ride with me, there's at least the prospect of getting off," he said, leaning down to speak into her ear.

"You really don't understand rejection, do you?" she asked.

"I understand it. But I understand body language, too. The fact that you can barely breathe when I touch you tells me that you want me almost as badly as I want you," he stated confidently.

"Then don't touch me," she said as they stepped onto the elevator.

"That wasn't a denial," he noted smugly.

"You really don't get it, do you?" she asked hotly.

"That wasn't a denial, either."

She let out a breath and shook her head, but she didn't say another word.

And, as he realized quickly, _that_ wasn't a denial either.

A few floors down from their own the elevator stopped, and just before the doors opened, Lucas moved a little closer to Peyton.

"I'll protect you," he murmured into her ear.

If he had taken that moment to ask her if she wanted him, she would have answered with a resounding _'yes'_.

A middle-aged man with a briefcase and an overcoat stepped onto the elevator, and Lucas shuffled just a little bit closer to Peyton for no reason at all, other than he knew she wouldn't make a scene in front of a perfect stranger.

Lucas raised his hand behind her, where the man couldn't see, not that the guy was paying any attention. He trailed his fingertips down the back of her neck and across her shoulder, down her side and past the sensitive skin where the band of her bra rest against her torso. She took a deep breath, but she wouldn't look at him, and he knew he was torturing her. His hand moved down her side until it was resting at her hip, then he slid it underneath her jacket and shirt. He tucked his fingertips just beneath the waistband of her pants at her hip.

He felt her relax a little bit against his arm, and she closed her eyes momentarily.

She shouldn't have enjoyed it, she shouldn't have let him get away with it, and she sure as hell shouldn't have given him any indication that she liked it.

But he knew exactly where to touch her, and exactly how to push the limits of the situation, and she felt like that was probably the sexiest thing she'd ever experienced.

The man stepped off the elevator at the ground floor, but Peyton didn't. As soon as the doors were closed again, she turned to Lucas and stepped away from him just enough that his hand wasn't...where it was any more. His hand had been _in_ her _pants_.

"Drive me home," she demanded. "I don't want to walk."

"I thought you weren't walking," he said with a smirk.

"I lied."

"Why?" he asked as the elevator started moving towards the parking garage.

"I don't want to owe you anything," she told him. They both knew it was the truth.

"But you changed your mind," he stated. The doors opened and she stepped out, but she stopped and stood there until he was in front of her again.

"You just fondled me in an elevator. I don't owe you a thing."

"I didn't fondle you," he said, smirking at her as she raised her eyebrow. He took a step towards her and his hand found that sensitive place again, just this side of obscene, resting at the side of her breast, his fingers coming to rest on her back. "And you enjoyed it."

"I..."

"Don't argue," he insisted. He shook his head gently. "You won't win."

"Let me go," she said.

"I'm not holding on. You can move if you want to," he said, grinning smugly.

She let out a frustrated breath and stepped away from him. The manner in which she did it had his hand grazing her breast, and he almost lost his mind. She had to have known that was going to happen.

Each time he thought he might be gaining the upper hand, she did something so simple and so small that somehow had him falling at her feet again. He'd never met a woman like her before in his life.

He opened the door of his SUV for her, and she stepped inside, and she didn't miss the way his eyes studied her legs as she tucked them into the car. She didn't want to think of what his gze would have been like had she been wearing a skirt that day. Once he'd turned the key, she keyed her address into his GPS, and she promptly ignored him for the duration of the 20 minute drive to her apartment building.

He pulled up to the curb and looked over at her after taking in the sight of the very nice building she lived in. It was one of Dan Scott's real estate developments, and Lucas knew the prices of the condos there. He was impressed. She had good taste.

"You aren't coming in," she stated with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't expect to."

"Yes, you did," she said, smiling at him when he smirked at her. She had him there. "Goodbye. Keep your hands to yourself."

He chuckled at her warning, but he didn't heed it. He reached for her wrist before she opened the door, and she turned back to him, looking at him questioningly.

"The only person I want to put my hands on, is you," he said.

She didn't say anything in response, just turned away and stepped out of his vehicle.

But she knew, somehow, that he was being sincere.

In all honesty, the only person who she wanted touching her, was him. It helped that he clearly knew how to use those hands. She'd suspected as much - during meetings, he'd be toying with his coffee cup and her mind would wander.

But the confirmation had been beyond enjoyable.

----

That Friday evening after the dinner hour at a bar near the office building, the company had a celebration in honour of Peyton's promotion.

That day, however, she'd had a series of afternoon meetings with Lucas and a few of the other senior executives, and he'd been damn near ruthless. And, OK, she'd admit that it was a little sexy. His power suit and his power persona, and the way he held his expensive pen. He'd shake his head, undisguised discord when someone said something he didn't agree with. He seemed to argue with her every point, and he'd smirk at her when she argued back, as if to say, _"Nice try, little girl, but we both know I'll win."_

He was impossible. He was her roadblock.

She was back to despising him.

After work, she quickly went home and stepped into that new black satin dress Brooke had so generously given her. She curled her hair a little bit more than usual so there were a large ringlets cascading down her back, and touched up her makeup. She slipped into a pair of red heels, and then she was on her way.

When she got into Brooke's waiting limo - the brunette was Peyton's '+1' - she was surprised to see Nathan Scott sitting there, too.

"Um...hi," Peyton said with a smile. She kind of like that those two were getting along so well, and that their budding relationship wasn't solely based on sex.

"Hey, best friend," Brooke said. "You look hot. Nice dress. Doesn't she look hot, Nathan?"

"Uh...if I answer that, are you gonna get mad at me?" he asked seriously, and both women laughed.

"No," Brooke insisted.

"Then yeah. You look great," he said genuinely. "I'm Luke's guest."

"I figured," Peyton said, nodding her head.

"What's going on with you two?" Brooke asked, ignoring the glare directed at her from her best friend. She knew Peyton was indicating that it wasn't something she wanted to talk about in front of Nathan. "Please. I'd just tell him anyway."

"Nothing is going on with us," Peyton said, shrugging one shoulder. "I still hate him, and he still can't grasp the fact that I'm not going to sleep with him."

"But you _want_ to sleep with him," Brooke stated, as though it were common knowledge.

"Brooke!"

"What?" the brunette laughed. "It's so obvious. It's written all over that sexy dress and heels you're wearing, and the fact that you obviously put effort into your hair and makeup." Nathan chuckled next to her, and Peyton glared at the both of them. "And I'd bet money that you have a condom in your clutch."

She didn't know what to say. Everything Brooke had just said was essentially true. She did put effort into her outfit and her look, and she wouldn't have worn her sexiest pair of shoes if she hadn't known they'd grab Lucas' attention - and maybe a few other parts of him.

And yes, there was a condom in her bag.

She had no rebuttal.

"You're a bitch," Peyton said, her eyes narrowed.

"Text Lucas right now, and tell him he's getting laid tonight," Brooke said with glee, tugging Nathan's arm. He just laughed as Peyton's eyes went wide.

"I won't," he assured the blonde. She glared at Brooke again, and Nathan could only shake his head. "This is going to be an interesting night."

Peyton was starting to think the same thing.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I wasn't going to update today. Three days in a row? Please. But...who loves you? Here's chapter 6.

**----**

When the limo stopped two blocks from the party, Peyton looked at Brooke questioningly just in time to see Nathan lean over and kiss the girl on the temple. He actually blushed a little when he noticed that Peyton witnessed the little act, but he just smiled when Peyton did.

"We can't be seen together yet," Brooke explained. "It'd be a frenzy."

"New York's most eligible bachelor and the country's hottest designer? Frenzy doesn't begin to describe it," Peyton said honestly.

"I'm not that eligible," Nathan said softly, shooting a wink to Brooke before stepping out of the car to walk the rest of the distance to the bar where the party was being held.

Brooke sat back in her seat once the door was closed, and Peyton just looked at her expectantly.

"Well, that one turned out to be a surprise," Peyton pointed out, shaking her head. "Who would have thought?"

"Not me, but...God," Brooke breathed out. "He's kind of amazing."

Peyton just smiled again and nodded her head. Not since high school had Brooke spoken of a guy the way she'd been speaking of Nathan since they met. He was evidently sweet - as Peyton had just witnessed - and he'd, according to Brooke, been treating her like a queen. Peyton also knew several of the intimate details of the relationship, but that was strictly girl talk and was never to be repeated. She was starting to get the impression that Brooke's relationship with Nathan Scott was becoming just that; a relationship.

The car pulled up to the curb, and the bouncer opened the limo's door. Brooke insisted that the guest of honour step out first, and Peyton was grateful. She could slip through the door of the bar before anyone noticed Brooke Davis was there and the photographers started snapping pictures.

Peyton waited inside the door for Brooke, and she immediately noticed Nathan and Lucas standing across the bar.

Well, she noticed Lucas. Nathan was kind of just there. She accepted the glass of Champagne Brooke had taken off a tray and handed to her, and the brunette insisted that Peyton re-introduce her to 'the higher ups'.

So Peyton did that very thing.

The two women worked the room like they'd been doing for years. They shook hands and spoke professionally, and laughed at the appropriate times.

And they each knew that the Scott brothers were checking them out the entire time.

"So, you and Brooke Davis, huh?" Lucas asked with an amused smile on his face. Nathan just shrugged.

"At least the girl I'm into doesn't despise me," Nathan said, raising a brow when Lucas squinted at him. "She really doesn't like you, man. I mean, in the car on the way over..."

"You were in the car with her?" Lucas asked. Why was everything making him so damn jealous when it came to her?

"Brooke and I left from her place. We picked Peyton up on the way," Nathan explained nonchalantly. "And I'm starting to think that you actually have feelings for this girl."

"OK, who the hell are you right now?" Lucas asked. "You're talking about _feelings_ all of a sudden?"

"It's kind of nice," Nathan said with a smile. "The feelings thing, I mean."

"This is fucking insane," Lucas mumbled. "The world has turned on its axis. You're seriously in a relationship with someone."

"And you can't get a girl to fuck you," Nathan said with a raised brow. "Something's off."

"God. Look at her," Lucas sighed, brushing of Nathan's comment. A comment they both knew made Lucas sound like more of a player than he actually was.

He glanced across the room at her, and he almost ran to her and pulled her away from the conversation she was having with Steve, the head of their company. She made him lose rational thought. She made him want to throw out all his rules - one of which was never to get involved with someone in the office. He didn't care about any of it. He needed her, and she was making it impossible to have her, just because she was too stubborn to admit that she wanted him to.

He remembered that night at that bar, when he'd told her it was all business from then on, and he'd walked away from her. Hell, he'd almost jumped out of a moving vehicle just to escape her proximity. He just couldn't do it. He'd tried. He honestly had. He tried to avoid her at the office, and every time he thought he was doing alright, she'd walk past his door laughing with Mia, or they'd be in a meeting together and she'd put her pen between her lips to turn her page. She'd accidentally lock eyes with him, then look away quickly. His heart had raced when she actually allowed him to drive her home.

He just couldn't stop wanting her.

And red fucking high heels? She was evil. She knew what she was doing, he'd give her that much.

"She's hot. No doubt."

"Hot? She's...I can't get her out of my mind," Lucas admitted.

"Sucks that she hates you," Nathan said before taking a sip of his scotch.

"She doesn't hate me," Lucas said with finality. Nathan looked at him disbelievingly. "She just wants to."

"I think she's succeeding," Nathan laughed.

Nathan clapped his brother on the shoulder and began walking towards the very girl he'd been eyeing all night. Lucas could only shake his head again. His brother in a relationship. With _Brooke Davis._ Things were really taking a turn.

He was lost in thought and in his glass scotch, and he almost didn't notice Peyton walking towards him. Well, that was a lie. He definitely noticed her. She was impossible to miss. That amazing dress - with the zipper he'd already located, just in case - and those shoes, and the way her hair was curled and her eye makeup was just a little smokier than usual...God, what was _not_ to notice?

"Congratulations," he said, raising his glass. She rolled her eyes as she sidled up next to him, and he sighed. "I was being nice."

"That's something new for you."

He gathered that she was still mad at him over how their meeting had gone. She was just the most fun person to argue with. He couldn't help himself.

"No," he said, shaking his head. He couldn't let her know she was still so obviously driving him mad. So he shot an insult of his own. "You just make it so easy to be rude to you. Something about treating others how you want to be treated."

"You're such an ass," she bit out. "I mean, really? Does _anyone_ like you?"

"You'd be surprised," he said before taking a sip of his drink. He noticed that her glass was empty. "You need a refill."

"No matter how hard you try, I won't get drunk and go home with you," she stated, glaring at him. "I'm not that girl."

"You wouldn't have just said that if you hadn't already thought about it," he said smugly. He leaned into her as he reached behind her for a bottle of chilled Champagne from the bucket on the bar. "And trust me, sweetheart, after enough Champagne, _every_ girl is that girl."

"Then don't pour that," she said, looking away from him.

He grabbed the hand that was holding her glass, and held it tightly as he filled it to the top. Their eyes locked until she let out a haughty breath. She scowled at him and he winked, setting the bottle back in the bucket. He let his fingertips graze her back, just above the top of her dress, and she sipped her drink to keep herself from taking a breath.

"Drink up," he said softly.

She turned to him and gave him a smile - a genuine one, he thought - and then walked away, slipping back into the crowd.

He honestly didn't know who was chasing who anymore. She walked over to him, but she'd walked away almost as quickly. She wasn't throwing (as many) barbs or insults, but she wasn't giving in to anything. She threw him a look over her shoulder, but she started in on a conversation with one of most notorious playboys at his publishing company.

And that was right about the point his blood started to boil.

He watched her flirt - in a way that even he could admit was fairly harmless, but still - and laugh and brush her hair from her face. She caught his eye when she reached for her third glass of Champagne (and yes, he'd been keeping track). He saw her place her hand on Jason's forearm when the guy had said something particularly clever.

He didn't like it one bit. She was his, and even she had to know it by that point.

He let out an audible sigh of relief when Steve stood and called everyone's attention to him to start in on a speech. He began to speak of what an incredible employee Peyton was. What a value she was to the company, and how much she'd accomplished, and how much faith he had in her. How she'd come to him as a confident-looking 19-year-old who he could see was scared out of her mind, and blew everyone away with her knowledge of both business and music.

And then he told everyone why he'd chosen her for the promotion. He said he'd made his decision based on one word spoken by Lucas Scott to describe Peyton's attitude towards her work. That word was _Passion_.

She glanced at Lucas from her place, and he saw a shadow of a smile on her lips.

Thank you, Steve.

The toast was made, and everyone offered congratulations, which she accepted gracefully.

And then she turned back to Jason.

And Lucas wasn't having that.

He walked over to where they were standing when he saw her reach for her fourth glass of Champagne. He wasn't laying down the groundwork, then having Jason take her home. No way in hell. He didn't really think she'd go home with the guy if he asked her, but Lucas wasn't taking any chances.

"Peyton," he said gently, cupping her elbow. "A word?"

"Sure," she said in confusion before turning to Jason. "Excuse us."

Lucas definitely enjoyed her referring to them as an 'us'. He chose to ignore that hint of anger he detected in her tone.

He released her arm once they started walking, knowing that she'd hate him for holding onto her like he was laying claim to her. Pulling her away to talk was essentially him doing the same thing, just in a more subtle way. They probably both knew that.

He led her through an employees only door and into a small dressing room, and she looked at him like he was crazy.

"What are you doing?" she asked calmly. She wasn't asking him why he was taking her from her own party, she was worried about where they were.

"I know the owner," he said with a shrug. Then it was time to get down to business. "What are _you_ doing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Jason!?" he asked irately. "You won't have anything to do with me, but you'll go home with _Jason_? Peyton, the guy can't even spell _acquaintance_!"

She wanted to smile. He was such a literary thinker.

"He's _your_ employee," she said with a raised brow. "And who says I need him to spell?"

She saw him set his jaw, and she knew she'd made him mad. She couldn't say that wasn't her objective. He was _insanely_ sexy when he was mad.

"Don't...Don't say that shit. Are you trying to make me jealous?" he asked seriously, like he really just wanted her answer.

"I didn't know you'd be jealous," she told him. It was a lie and they were both fully aware of that. "I assumed you'd just find some other girl to occupy you for the evening."

"I meant what I said."

"You say a lot of things."

"I'm not...I only want you," he told her firmly.

"Well, for once, Lucas Scott isn't going to get exactly what he wants," she said, faking sweetness, and then she made her way to the door.

"Don't do that," he said, stepping in front of the door so she couldn't leave. "What the hell is your problem? Just because I'm a Scott, you think it's OK to treat me like that?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, furrowing her brow. "I thought we were talking about how much you want me, and how I'm never going to give into your almost pathetic advances."

She had to repeat it. She just had to. Calling him pathetic was a low blow. It wasn't even the truth. She was just out to anger him, and it was petty and cruel, and she didn't even really want to do it. Lucas Scott confused her more than any other man she'd ever met, in terms of dealing with her own emotions.

"You keep insinuating that I'm just a spoiled rich kid, and I don't appreciate it."

"Well...sorry," she said, her voice devoid of any real apology.

"I'm going to tell you something that no one knows," he said seriously, crossing his arms over his chest.

He couldn't believe he was about to do it. He really couldn't. Literally no one knew. Essentially, just Dan, Deb and Nathan. It was a huge family secret that had been kept for too many years. But Peyton needed to know. He wanted her opinion of him to change, and this was the only way.

"I don't know why you're doing this," she stated in frustration.

"You need to know...I'm not Dan and Deb's son," he said softly, not looking at her. If he had, he would have seen her reel her head back in surprise.

"What?" she breathed out in shock.

"I'm...Dan is my father, and Deb is Nathan's mom, but my mom was...She and my uncle, who raised me until I was eight, they died in a car accident," he explained. "I was forced to move to New York from Buffalo to live with Dan."

"How is that...? How does no one know that?" she asked quietly, shaking her head from side to side.

She couldn't believe it. She really couldn't. She almost didn't. But she knew he wouldn't make up a story like that. Lucas Scott was a lot of things, she realized, but a liar he was not. He may have deceived her and used inside information to get what he wanted, but he hadn't lied about anything.

"Dan," he said with a single shrug of his shoulder, knowing that simple name would explain it all.

"Why did you tell me that?" she asked quietly. He was kind of bringing down the mood of the party.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she kind of loved fighting with him. Having compassion for him was something new entirely.

"Because I wanted you to know that Dan never wanted me!" he said harshly. "He abandoned my mom when she was pregnant. He never treated me like he treated Nathan. He _still_ doesn't. I work because it's who I am. I haven't taken a thing from Dan since I was 18 years old."

Of all the things he could have said to her, she hadn't expected all that.

"I'm sorry. I...Lucas, I'm sorry," she said sincerely after a beat of silence. "That's what you meant that night in the limo when you said..." She stopped speaking when he shrugged one shoulder, confirming that she was right.

He stepped aside, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked to the ground. He didn't say anything, and she didn't know what to say, so they were quiet in that mostly dark little room.

"You can go," he pointed out after a moment, gesturing to the now unblocked door. He wasn't telling her to leave, he was just reminding her that she had the option.

She thought for a moment. She thought back on things that had happened since they'd first met. That night they'd spent talking over drinks, and when she'd run into him at the coffee shop. The banter and the arguments, and the really hot make out session in his office that day. He'd said she had _passion_.

Suddenly, she was looking at him differently. He wasn't the guy she thought he was. He'd worked his way to the top, just like she had. That said more about him than anything else. He was more than just the arrogant womanizer brought up with the silver spoon. There was no silver spoon, and she believed him that she was the only one she wanted. He'd told her something so personal and so intense that she knew he trusted her, even if he knew she didn't trust him; if she couldn't.

Somehow, his very big, very significant admission made it OK for her to want him. She wondered if it had been OK all along.

And she didn't want to walk through that door.

She stepped towards him and draped her arms around his neck, kissing him almost before he even knew what was going on. He moaned in surprise as his hands found her hips clumsily and he began kissing her back. He thought he was dreaming.

He backed her against the wall, and his hands tangled in her hair as she loosened his tie. His tongue collided with hers, and she realized that he was an even better kisser than she'd remembered. He was rough and raw, but somehow still soft and sweet. She had absolutely no clue how he managed all that. She was pretty thankful for it, though.

"You're not going," he said with a smirk as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders.

"Shut up and kiss me, Luke," she said breathlessly.

She was begging him, and he was damn well going to give her whatever she was asking for. He really hoped she'd ask for a lot more than a few kisses.

He chuckled before he pressed his lips to hers again, and he didn't want to to give in to her every whim. No. Fuck that. Yes he did. He just didn't want her to know it yet.

He moved away from her, making her whine and stomp her foot. She actually stomped her foot. He chuckled, and she shoved him gently.

"I hate you," she said teasingly.

"No, you don't."

They each smiled at the familiarity, and she reached for his belt, pulling him close to her and making him groan when his hips met hers. She let out a hum when he kissed her again, and she feathered her fingers through his hair as he pulled up the hem of her dress.

Sure, he knew where that zipper was, but he wasn't going to waste time pulling it down. It was just so much easier to press her up against the wall and have her wrap her legs around him like he'd been wanting her to since the first day he caught sight of them in the lobby.

She pushed his hands away and he groaned again for an entirely different reason. He didn't know why she was doing it, but then she reached for his belt again and began undoing his pants, and he stopped questioning things. Her lips traveled to his neck as she unzipped his pants, and he had no idea what to focus on. Then she took his length in her hand, and he let out a sound that was so sexy, her knees almost gave out.

And she was starting to believe that giving into temptation was a _lot_ of fun.

He started pushing her dress up again, and she let him. She hitched her leg and hooked it around his waist as he found that certain spot on her neck - low and right above her collar bone - that made her throw her head back. His hand found her thigh, holding her against the wall. He was already making her feel better than any of her other boyfriends had. He moved his hand further beneath her dress.

And it was then that he realized she wasn't wearing any panties.

That was why she hadn't wanted him to get her out of her dress so fast. But it was inevitable, she realized. It was going to happen sooner or later, and at that moment, she was a pretty big fan of sooner.

His head dropped to her shoulder and he groaned.

"What?" she asked innocently.

They both knew she wasn't innocent at all.

"Really?" he asked, pulling away from her and looking at her with a raised brow.

"They didn't work under this dress." Her eyes sparkled as she said it, and he absolutely adored how seductive she was. "Nothing works."

"Nothing definitely fucking works."

She giggled and he kissed her again. She used her feet - those red high heels - to push down his pants and boxers, pressing herself against him just that little bit more. She mewled at the feel of him hard against her, and he moaned at the feel of her wet against him.

She rocked her hips against him, but it didn't feel right. Well, it felt _right_. It felt _incredible_. But a quick tryst in the back of a club wasn't how he wanted things to happen. He needed time. He needed a bed - hers or his, it didn't really matter - and cool sheets, and warm, completely naked bodies. He wanted to lay with her after until she wanted him again.

Because she _would_ want him again. He'd make sure of it.

"Not here," he said breathlessly. He pulled away from her and brushed her slightly disheveled hair away from her face.

"What?" The shock was evident in her tone. Surely, he couldn't have just said that.

"Not here," he repeated. "This isn't...I can't. I need to take my time with you. I need to feel you." He tried to ignore the way their bare skin was touching. It wasn't easy. "I can't have it like this. I can't have _you_ like this."

"I finally give in to you, and you're getting picky?" she asked incredulously. He kissed along the line of her jaw until he reached her ear.

"Sweetheart, you gave in to yourself," he told her, gently tugging at her earlobe with his teeth after he'd finished speaking.

He had a point. He always had a point.

And he held her a little tighter when the shiver ran down her spine. Somehow that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.

"Take me home, Lucas," she said, her eyes closed, almost as though she didn't want to say the words.

He arched against her again, and she let out an unbridled moan, and clutched his collar at the back of his neck.

"Stop that!" she said, almost giggling.

"Baby, that's just the beginning."

She took a deep breath. God, she hoped he wasn't lying.

She pushed him away a little and set her foot on the floor. His eyes glazed over (more) at the sight of her there with her skirt hiked up and her face flushed. She rolled her eyes when she saw him staring, and she straightened out her dress. He began doing up his pants again, tucking his shirt in and fastening his belt.

She moved to the mirror in the room and started fixing her hair and ensuring that her makeup wasn't a mess. He stood behind her, straightening his tie, and their eyes locked in the mirror. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her back into him and whispering how amazing she looked.

She blushed. He'd finally made her blush. He grinned at the accomplishment.

Grabbing his jacket off the floor, he told her to head out first, and he'd follow so no one suspected anything. He said he'd meet her out front, and she just nodded. With a lingering kiss to his cheek, she stepped out the door.

As she looked for Brooke in the crowd, she realized that she didn't know where they were going to go. His place or her place. She didn't know how they were going to get there. Had he driven? She didn't even know where he lived! But she got that feeling deep down in her stomach when she thought of what had just about happened, and she didn't care about any of the details. She'd been ready to go right there against the wall. Part of her liked that he hadn't been.

"Hey!" Brooke said happily. "Where've you been?"

"Actually...I was thinking of taking off," Peyton said softly.

Nathan looked over Peyton's shoulder and saw Lucas stepping out a door in the back of the club, and he was pulling on his jacket as he rejoined the crowd. Nathan wasn't born yesterday. He knew what was going on.

"Peyton, it's your party!" Brooke pointed out. "The only acceptable reason for you to leave would be if you were..." She paused and her eyes went wide as she stared at Peyton. She saw the absence of lip gloss, the almost-matted curls, the pink in the cheeks. She was leaving for the very reason Brooke was about to mention. "Get out of here."

"Brooke," Peyton said softly, like a warning.

"Get. Out." Brooke's voice was dangerously low, and she was looking at Peyton threateningly. "Call me tomorrow. I want to know everything."

"I really don't," Nathan added, breaking the tension. Peyton turned and scanned the crowd quickly. "He just left."

"I wasn't looking." Nathan raised an eyebrow and Brooke scoffed. "I'm going," Peyton said, waving subtly before walking away.

"Those two?" Brooke said with a smile, looking up at Nathan.

"About time."

"I know, right? Kind of inevitable," she said. "You know? We could leave, too, since our dates left us."

Nathan was pulling her towards the door before she'd even finished her drink.

----

When Peyton stepped outside onto the sidewalk, she saw Lucas' SUV waiting there. She was thankful that he had driven. Getting a cab would have taken forever, and she needed him as soon as possible.

He opened the door for her from the inside, and she climbed in.

"What happened to not getting drunk and coming home with me?" he asked with a smirk as he put the car in drive.

"I'm not going home with you. You're coming home with me," she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

He just smirked and rest his hand on her thigh, pushing up the satin of her dress just a little bit, and only because he knew she'd let him. They were silent as they wove through the city streets towards her apartment, and they both smiled to themselves when she rest her hand on his.

This was going to be a hell of a fun night.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **So, yesterday, I said I love you guys. Today, you had better say you love me. Kidding. Just enjoy the chapter! Oh, and let me know if you did...

**----**

When Lucas pulled up to Peyton's building, she directed him to the parking garage, then they rode the elevator up to her apartment on the 18th floor. He somehow managed to keep his hands to himself, and she kind of hated him for it. On one hand, she was happy that he hadn't tempted her to do something insane, like take her dress off in an elevator. On the other, they'd had basically a month and a half of foreplay, and she was ready to just get to it.

He stood right behind her as she unlocked her door, and when he swept aside her hair and placed a single kiss on the back of her neck, she fumbled with her keys.

He took them from her, his arms around her still, and turned the key in the lock.

This guy was amazing already, and they weren't even behind closed doors yet. Sure, the little teaser she'd gotten at the bar let her know that this night was going to leave her very happy, but he just seemed to keep doing things to remind her.

He placed her keys back in her palm once he had the door pushed open a crack, and then he rest his hand on her hip and gently guided her into her apartment. Once inside, she dropped her clutch on the hall table and walked through to the living room.

She wondered why he hadn't said a word since they'd stepped out of the car. It was only adding to the already palpable tension.

"This place is nice," he noted.

The walls in the living room were a light grey, neutral and matching the black leather furniture and dark wood. She had a high tech stereo system, which came as no surprise, and an entertainment center he almost envied. It was clear she didn't go without anything, and she lived a comfortable life.

Of course, he had an idea of what her salary was; he knew she wasn't living in the slums.

"Thanks," she said. "You want a drink?"

"You need another?"

"I'm not drunk."

"You sure?" he asked with a smirk. "You had four glasses of Champagne."

"Three and a half. You stole me away and distracted me before I could finish the fourth," she said, raising her brow as he chuckled.

"Scotch, if you have it," he finally said. He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair.

He was surprised - and a little impressed and maybe a little turned on - when she poured two glasses. She poured hers on the rocks, and his neat, just as he had always drank it. He liked that she remembered it. She clinked the rim of his before taking a sip of her own.

He still felt sometimes that he had absolutely no clue who she was.

"You know Dan developed this entire block," Lucas said, just to make conversation.

"I don't want to talk about Dan," she told him, and he just laughed again.

He knew that had little to do with the secret he let her in on, and a lot to do with why he was standing in her apartment in the first place.

"Sorry."

"You don't do this often, do you?" she asked, almost in awe of that fact.

She was leaning against the back of the sofa, only three feet from where he stood, and her legs were crossed in front of her. She had one hand resting on the sofa as the other clutched her glass. He was wondering where the bedroom was.

"That surprise you?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

She shrugged one shoulder. "Just for all the talking you do..."

"I can back it up," he interrupted.

"I hope that's true."

"It is," he promised.

He glanced around a little more, noticing the art on the walls and the view of the city from her windows.

"You don't have any music here," he said, confusion etched on his face.

She just laughed a hearty laugh, moved away from the sofa, and started down the hall. She threw him a glance over her shoulder to let him know he should follow her.

Those heels. Those legs. That dress. His heart raced.

She pushed open the door to one of the three bedrooms in the place, and he saw wall to wall, floor to ceiling shelves of records and CDs. There was a sketching table in one corner of the room, but other than that, it was devoted entirely to countless albums.

"OK. Whoa," he mumbled. "This is intense."

"What do you want to hear?" she asked.

"I don't think I could pick."

"Try," she said with a shrug. "Jazz, rock, R&B. This whole section right here's metal." She gestured to a rack of vinyl, and he just grimaced and shook his head.

"I'm thinking jazz," he said.

"You like it, huh?" she asked. "I hear it in your office sometimes."

"It soothes me."

She nodded her head and walked over to a particular spot, like she was going to grab something and she knew exactly where it was. He was impressed. She had literally...God, it had to be well over a thousand albums, and she seemed to know where each of them was. It was like him with his books. Maybe they were more alike than he'd originally thought.

"I think you'll like this," she said. "The RH Factor."

"Never heard of it."

"I'm not surprised. It's Roy Hargrove and..." Her voice trailed when she noticed the amused look on his face. "What?"

"I'll be honest. Pretty much whatever you put on is going to sound fine to me," he said with a chuckle. "I just want you to finish that drink so I can get you the hell out of that dress."

"I don't need to finish the drink for that."

"Then what are we doing in here?" he asked. She laughed. Devil woman. "I'm serious."

"I know," she managed.

"Stop laughing," he demanded boyishly.

"I can't. I just...I despise you, but I..."

They were both very well aware that she didn't, in fact, despise him.

"What?"

"I need you," she said, locking eyes with him.

"You don't need me," he scoffed, crossing the room. He set his drink on a shelf, then took hers from her hand and placed it next to his own. "You just want me."

"No," she insisted, shaking her head. "I need you."

He didn't dare argue again.

"I'm right here," he said softly, stepping close to her, but not touching her. He'd make her make the move.

She surprised the both of them by reaching for the two glasses where they sat on the shelf and starting towards the door.

"Where are you going?" he chuckled.

"I'm sorry! I can't leave liquids next to my Zep!" she called over her shoulder.

He smiled to himself and made his way back to the door and leaned against the frame until she stepped back out of the kitchen and towards him.

"Bedroom's this way," she said, taking his hand as she walked past.

"Hey," he said, tugging her back towards him. She wasn't expecting it, and she crashed into him a little awkwardly, making them both smile. "Slow down a little, girl."

"We've done slow," she reminded him. "I don't want slow."

"Sweetheart, you're getting slow," he growled.

"God, I love that," she whispered with her eyes closed.

"What?"

"You call me sweetheart," she said. "Just every once in a while."

"Sometimes you are one." He shrugged one shoulder and brought her closer, his arm around her waist.

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes you're a bitch."

She hit his chest with the heel of her palm, and when her jaw dropped, he leaned forward and kissed her. His tongue immediately slipped into her mouth, and she gasped a little when he backed her against the closest wall.

She could get used to that. Kissing him, him taking control, his body against hers, the scent of his cologne making her body react in intense and wonderful ways.

"Luke," she said against his lips. "We've done this part."

"Slow."

"Fuck slow. I need you."

"Potty mouth," he said, reminding her of that argument in his office.

"Please," she whined. He dragged his fingertips down the side of her neck and across her collarbone, and she was already shivering against him.

"I kind of like hearing you beg," he said, a wolfish smirk on his face.

"I could show you the door."

"Could you?" His hand found her behind, and he pressed himself into her a little more, and she tipped her head back a bit.

"No," she admitted.

They both smiled, and he nodded in victory. He kissed her again, letting his hands tangle in her hair.

But that kiss was a little different. It was just a little softer, and she felt something akin to...affection. Like he actually liked her. As though this thing they had wasn't merely a physical attraction, and she wasn't a conquest, and he wouldn't be leaving as soon as they'd finished the act.

It surprised her when she kissed him back in the same manner.

"Bedroom," he said against her lips.

"Uh huh," she mumbled back, pushing him away just enough so she could start leading him down the hall.

He pulled her against him again, lifting her just a little so she merely had do shuffle her feet as they kissed heatedly. She reached between them and ran just one fingertip along his length through the fabric of his pants, and he had to reach out and place his hand on the wall. He had every intention of torturing her, and she was torturing him right back with the simplest of things. He adored that about her.

They stepped into her bedroom, and he didn't notice a thing. He didn't notice wall colours or furniture - save for the bed - or art, or any other damn thing. He only knew it was him and her and a bed with red linens.

The colour of passion. How appropriate.

"I have a feeling this isn't going to last long," she said breathlessly.

He pulled away from her and she almost laughed at the nearly-insulted look on his face.

"Yes, it is."

"I didn't mean you. I meant me," she explained. He smirked and kissed her gently, letting his hand caress her side.

"So did I."

"You're one of those," she said, unable to hide her smile as he kissed her neck.

"What?"

"The kind of man who'll make sure the woman comes first," she elaborated. He let a breath out on her neck and gripped her a little tighter upon hearing her talk like that.

"Often."

"Hmm?" she asked, completely distracted by his mouth on her pulse point. He pulled away and looked at her with a grin that almost had her falling apart in his arms.

"I'm the kind of man who'll make sure the woman comes often," he corrected her, his voice husky. She had to bite her bottom lip, and he chuckled. "Relax, Peyton. It'll last."

She moved away from him. She needed to. She'd said she didn't want slow, but since that was what she was getting, she needed to regain a little bit more control over herself. She lit a couple candles and switched off the light, and then he reached for her hand, pulling her back to him. He kissed her again, and he felt her grab his tie, loosening the knot with one hand as the other clutched the collar of his shirt at the back of his neck.

But his tie was the only piece of clothing she got off him.

"Lay down," he commanded, releasing her and nudging her gently towards the bed.

She did as she was told, and he smirked. This was going to be fun if she wasn't going to argue with him. Well, it was going to be fun either way, but...he loved the control he had over her, he wouldn't lie.

"Stop gawking," she said after a moment.

"I'm not gawking. I'm...appreciating."

"Well, appreciate from on top of me, please," she requested. He just shook his head slowly and put his hands on his hips. "You aren't going to lay down with me?"

"Eventually."

"Don't tease me."

"You've been teasing me for months," he countered.

"Not months."

"Close to," he said.

"Are we going to argue about how long we've known each other, or are you going to touch me?" she asked in frustration.

"I'm going to touch you," he said with a shrug. That smirk hadn't left his face. "Just give me a minute."

"You're really attached to this whole 'slow' thing, aren't you?"

"You know, you could just get up and come to me," he stated, grinning at her as she lay, propped up on her elbows on the richly coloured linens of her bed.

"I just figure the longer I lay here, the harder it's going to be for you to stand halfway across the room."

"You underestimate me."

"Lucas," she almost whined.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Fine," she said, raising one eyebrow.

She sat up and her hand moved to the zipper of her dress, but he stepped forward and stopped her before she could tug it down. He pushed her onto her back, his hand on her shoulder, then he stood directly in front of her, looking down at her. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. She could almost see him mapping out their evening; what he was going to do first, and how and where he was going to touch her.

He started at her feet. She lay back so just her feet were dangling over the edge of the bed - upon his prompting - and he carefully slid off one of those red shoes, then the other. He set them aside - gently, she noticed and was thankful for - and he caressed the outside of her left leg, from her ankle to just below her knee. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, just above her knee, and she let out a thick breath in anticipation of things to come.

And they weren't even naked yet.

He found the zipper at the side of her dress, and he kissed her just above the black satin as he pulled the zipper down torturously slowly.

"God, Lucas," she breathed out.

"I can't believe," he started, pulling the dress down and forcing her to lift her hips so he could remove it, "that you attended a party - a _work_ function - without any panties on."

"I told you why."

"I'm telling you that it's inappropriate," he said with a teasing smirk as he crossed the room and lay her dress over the chair in the corner.

He was the only man she had ever known who would undress her, then take care to assure her clothes were set aside nicely. He didn't stare at her first, laying naked atop the bed, and he didn't simply climb up her body and kiss her with no regard for anything else. She didn't know - she honestly didn't - whether she loved or hated that.

"Are you complaining?"

"Oh, no," he insisted, shaking his head. "I've certainly reaped the benefits of it."

She smiled and looked at him there, standing again with his hands on his hips and taking in her naked body. She didn't feel uncomfortable. She didn't feel like she wanted him on top of her so he couldn't see her all of her. She wanted him on top of her for a completely different reason...

"Please, _please_ tell me you don't come to the office like that," he begged.

She shrugged one shoulder and smiled coyly. He groaned and closed his eyes as he dropped his head. "Some of my skirts are really tight."

"I'm aware."

"And I know you love to stare. I can't have any lines."

"Vixen." She laughed from her place.

She'd never in her life had this before. Talking and joking and what seemed like an actual conversation during foreplay. His self control was almost awe-inspiring. She thought that was a pretty telling sign. If he could control himself then, when she was laying bare in front of him, and he was still almost fully dressed, she was sure he'd be able to control himself later, when it really counted.

Who was she kidding? It all counted.

"You may be," he said, his hands traveling up the outside of her legs, "the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on."

Sweet. Very sweet.

Too bad she wasn't in the mood for sweet.

"If you don't lay something else on me, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands," she said threateningly, making him chuckle.

He hooked his hands beneath her thighs and pulled her towards the edge of the bed and she sat up, somehow knowing that was what he wanted her to do.

She didn't wait for further instruction, and neither of them were surprised by that. She wanted some control, and he'd gladly give it to her. He wasn't done teasing her yet, but he didn't want her to be mad at him. And it was, after all, all about Peyton. He wasn't naive enough to think otherwise.

She began undoing the buttons of his shirt, pulling the fabric from the waist of his pants and slipping her hands beneath the fabric at his shoulders. She pushed the garment down his arms, her eyes locked with his. It was almost as though she was seeking his permission to reach for his belt. If she was, she didn't wait for it. She undid the buckle swiftly, then unzipped his pants and tugged at the legs.

When he was left in just his boxers, he leaned forward and rest his arms on either side of her, and pressed his lips to hers sweetly before pushing her onto her back. She'd tried to grab him and keep him with her, but he merely shook his head.

He took his time, peppering what felt like every inch of her body in kisses, from her ankles to her neck, making her breathing heavy as she grasped whatever part of him she could. Her hands feathered through his hair as he swept his lips across her breast, and his eyes met hers when she breathed out his name.

She was so lost in that darkened shade of blue, that she didn't realize he was moving his hand until it was between her legs, making her gasp and throw her head back. She spread her legs a little wider, something that made Lucas' heart race a bit more from sheer anticipation alone. He kissed her as his hand moved against her with just the right amount of pressure to have her clutching his back a little tighter.

He could tell she was holding back, and he didn't know why, so he pressed against her a little more, slipping two fingers inside her. She moved her hips and let out a moan, and her fingertips dug into his shoulder blade.

"Stop," she said breathlessly. "Please."

"I told you..."

"I know what you said," she interrupted, trying her hardest to ignore what he was doing. He hadn't stopped, and she really couldn't find it in her to make him. "There's time for all that later. I'm not kicking you out after. I just need you."

"Me?" he asked boyishly. He was teasing her. She hated him. She wanted him. She had no idea how she felt about him. It was a lot of things.

"I need you inside me, Lucas," she said, squeezing her legs together to still his hand. She didn't miss the smirk that put on his face. "Just...give me what I want."

He closed his eyes and let out a breath. Never had he heard a demand quite so compelling. He didn't like to be bossed around. He didn't like anyone else to have control.

But if Peyton had told him to lay back and not move an inch, he was sure he would have done that, too.

He moved off her and she sat up and hooked her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers to pull them down. He kicked them off in haste, and she reached for the night stand. She saw him raise an eyebrow over the fact that she was a girl and she kept condoms so close at hand, but he wisely didn't say a word.

She tossed the foil wrapper to where he stood at the side of the bed, and he chuckled a little at the state he had her in. Her breathing was still laboured, and her cheeks were flushed, and she ran her hand through her hair as she waited for him to join her.

And he hadn't even broken out his best moves on her yet.

He settled himself on top of her again, and she let out a heavy breath as he lay between her legs, almost as close as they could be, him right at her entrance. He brushed the hair from her face and he kissed her once.

"This is happening, right?" he asked with a smile.

"Not quickly," she mumbled.

"How can you be snarky at a time like this?"

"How can you control yourself?" she asked seriously. "God, Lucas, I'm...I'm falling apart here."

"I know."

"I don't like it," she pouted, and they both laughed.

"Yes, you do," he whispered against her lips.

He kissed her, and his hand traveled up her side, and she was shivering against him when he slid into her. He swallowed her moan and was still for a moment, until she clutched at his back and kissed him harder. He pulled out almost completely before pushing back into her again, as if he were trying to replicate that first moment of being with her, but knowing he never would.

And he'd never felt that way about about a woman before. He'd never wanted to savour every single second in her presence, whether she was yelling at him, walking away from him, or naked in his arms.

He was 100 per cent certain that he liked that last one best, though.

He started a steady rhythm, and Peyton thought that she was going insane. There was no way they fit that well together. They were like oil and water in the day to day! She hated him half the time, and he was still antagonizing her the other half of the time. But he seemed to know exactly the way she needed his body to move against - or rather, with - hers.

He seemed to know intimate details that even she, herself, hadn't ever really known. Like if he placed his large hand at the top of her thigh, then dragged his fingers up to the top of her ribcage, she was probably going to mumble some form of his name. Or if he felt her still her breath, he'd slow his movements to keep her at the same level of passion as he was at.

Crazy as it sounded, it felt like they'd done this a hundred times before.

It lasted longer than she thought it would. Considering she was already so far gone before he was even undressed, she had honestly thought she'd come in a matter of minutes. She wouldn't have cared. She would have loved it. More for herself, she thought. But with the way Lucas seemed to know exactly what he was doing, she had been brought to the edge more times than she'd considered to count, only to have him somehow make her gain control again.

And _fuck_, that was hot.

"God...Lucas..."

The way she said his name only helped him get to the same place she was. She was so impossibly sexy that he had been close a couple times, and he'd thought of just helping her along so he could let it go. But that wasn't his style, and he wanted her to know that.

She said his name once more, and she arched her back just a little bit, and he knew that she couldn't take it much longer. He kissed her hard on the mouth as he pushed into her, and she whimpered from low in her throat.

"Luke...baby..."

He didn't need to hear anything more, and with only a couple more strokes, she was calling his name, and he was holding her as she threw her head back. Feeling her tightening around him had him dropping his head to her shoulder as they came together. That was what he'd wanted all along. That mutual release that was somehow even more intense with Peyton than he'd ever thought possible.

He stayed inside her and on top of her for a few moments as they both tried to regain control of their breathing and some semblance of composure. Her hand was running idly through the hair at the back of his neck, and he smiled when his fingertips danced over her thigh and she shivered and took a sharp breath.

When he finally rolled away and landed next to her, and she'd regained the ability to form coherent thoughts, she turned onto her side and rest her head against his outstretched arm.

"We're doing that again," she insisted.

"As many times as you'll let me."

She just climbed onto his lap, smiled, and leaned down to kiss him.

He was starting to get the impression that she wouldn't be asking him to leave any time soon.


	8. Chapter 8

She lay in bed, a sheet loosely draped over her, and her back propped up on all the pillows she never usually slept upon. Well, she wasn't sleeping that night either. It was close to 3:30 a.m., and she didn't even feel the least tired.

Lucas lay in just his boxers, with a pillow behind his head as he idly massaged Peyton's feet. It was a silly way to sit together, but Peyton kind of loved it. They could talk and joke, and there was no craning of necks or hidden looks. It was all on the table.

Lucas could get used to that. Laying with her, talking about nothing or...whatever. Occasionally kissing or...whatever. He hadn't left her bedroom since he entered it, and she only left to put on that album she'd been talking about earlier - which, by the way, he loved - and to get them a couple glasses of water.

"You aren't kicking me out," he noted.

"I told you I wouldn't."

"I know, but...I didn't believe you."

"Why didn't you say something?" she asked worriedly.

"Because you were begging me to have sex with you and I would have been crazy to want to talk."

"Oh. Right."

They both laughed, and he kissed the top of her foot. She had no clue how something like that could be found both adorable and insanely sexy.

"Remember that day in my office?" he asked with a fond smile.

"The day you attacked me?"

"I didn't attack you," he scoffed. "I just...did what we both wanted."

"I was so pissed off!" she cried, making him laugh.

"I just had to prove that you didn't hate me."

"You just wanted to have sex on your desk."

"The thought has crossed my mind," he said, and she pulled her feet away from him as she scowled. "Oh please. It's crossed yours, too."

She blushed and rolled her eyes, but she wouldn't look at him, and she knew it was the biggest tell of her life.

"I'm starving," she said after a moment.

"Chinese?"

"Why is it that when people think of a late night food in New York City, they just automatically suggest Chinese?" she asked with a raised brow. "Really. What about, like, Korean? Or...or...I dunno. Anything that's not Chinese."

"You don't like Chinese?"

"I love Chinese. I'm just saying that it's weird," she said, shrugging her shoulder. He could only laugh.

She stood from the bed, not bothering to grab the sheet, and he took a sharp breath as he watched her move across the room. She picked up his shirt off the floor and pulled it on, buttoning as few of the buttons as possible without being obscene. Not that it would have mattered.

He didn't care. He just already missed her in the bed.

"Don't look at me like that," she warned.

"Like what?" he asked with a smirk.

"Like...that. It's...you make it really hard to walk away from you."

"Well, then stop trying to walk away from me," he said, grinning boyishly.

"Don't get cute," she insisted. He looked up at her where she was standing next to the bed. "Stop it!"

"I don't even know I'm doing it!"

"That's the problem," she admitted.

"I guess," he said, standing and slipping his arms around her, "I just always want you."

"Lucas," she said, turning her head away from him. "Seriously. I need food, and you're...Don't distract me."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're always doing something."

He kissed her before she left the room, and he didn't follow her. She didn't feel nervous with him in her bedroom. In the past, the first few times a man would stay at her place, she felt like her entire life was on display. With Lucas, she didn't feel that. She really wasn't sure why. She actually kind of liked to know that he'd be in there when she returned.

Lucas lay on her bed, waiting for her to step back into the room, and he replayed their evening. It had been insane. Intense and completely crazy. 100 per cent. They'd gone from barely speaking, to arguing, to him confessing his biggest secret, to nearly having sex in the back of the venue, to actually having sex at her apartment. He wouldn't change a second of it if he could.

The sex was even better than he had imagined. And yes, he had imagined. Several times. Extensively. But she was incredible. She knew herself, and she was confident, and she didn't shy away from him. She'd been just as cute and flirty as she had been just downright _sexy_. She touched him in the most innocent places, but somehow made it not innocent at all. She'd curl her fingers around his bicep and he'd lose all control.

He really needed her to come back into the room, or he was going to look for her. He felt like she was everywhere on him. She was in his head and under his skin. He smelled like her now, just that bit of vanilla and...coconut. Or something. He could taste her on his tongue, and he wanted more of her.

When she stepped back into the room with a plate in her hand, he looked over at her and she narrowed her eyes. He was already hard, just thinking about her.

"What?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"Get over here."

"Come get me," she said playfully. She laughed when he did that very thing, immediately slipping his hands beneath the shirt she was wearing. "What have you been doing in here?"

"Thinking of you," he admitted softly. "I can't get you out of my mind."

"I can't get you out of my bed."

She set the plate of food on her dresser, and he didn't even notice that it wasn't Chinese and she'd clearly not ordered in. She was kind of thankful that she hadn't. That would have meant leaving the room, and that was something she now really, _really_ didn't want to do.

"You don't want me out of your bed," he countered.

He was always doing that; refuting her claims. It would have annoyed her if he wasn't always right.

He pulled the shirt over her head and tugged her back towards the sheets, turning them around so she fell backwards with him on top of her. His hand urgently covered her breast as he kissed her, and she had no idea how they still had all that passion. Sure, they had close to two months of pent up sexual tension to release, but...they'd been releasing it all night. With him on top of her and kissing her in a way that felt like he just couldn't get enough of her, she wasn't going to question him about why he wanted her so badly.

She wanted him just the same.

His lips moved to her neck, and she let out a breath. It was her favourite place to be kissed, and it was his favourite place to kiss a woman, and when they'd told each other that, Lucas had smiled triumphantly, and Peyton had tried to decode that look. She really didn't understand it, and when he kissed her again, she stopped thinking about it.

"I need to sleep at some point," she said, laughing beneath him.

"Not at this point."

"At some point, though."

"We'll get there," he said, speaking into her ear before kissing the hinge of her jaw. "Eventually."

"I'm hungry," she said, protesting wanly. She didn't want to protest. She wanted to tease him. He wasn't going to let her.

He pulled away from her and gave her a roguish smile as he locked eyes with hers.

"Me too."

When he started kissing down her body, she wanted to make fun of him for using such a cheesy line. But then his face was between her thighs, and she settled on just breathing out his name instead.

----

The sun was coming up by the time they fell asleep, and even that had been mere necessity, and not a desire. Peyton had climbed into Lucas' lap, and he'd actually groaned, like he just couldn't do it. He told her he'd give into her when he had more to give, and he made it sound like a perfect promise. He hadn't lied when he'd told her he'd make her come often. She hadn't lied when she'd told him there was time for everything else later.

They both fell asleep naked, atop the now very disheveled sheets on her bed. Lucas had his arms securely around her, and she lay against his chest, her arm draped over his stomach.

Peyton woke to the shrill sound of her phone coming from somewhere in the apartment, and she checked the time to see that it was only 9:30. On any other Saturday, that would have meant she'd slept in. Not this Saturday. A few hours of sleep all she got, she grabbed her robe and caught her reflection in the mirror before stepping out into the hall and tugging the door closed behind her, so as not to wake Lucas.

What she'd noticed in that quick glance at herself was that she looked more relaxed and well-rested than she had in...years, maybe. Her skin glowed, and her cheeks were a little pinker, and once she'd run her fingers through her hair - hastily in her rush to get the phone - she felt she looked better than she had the night before when she'd made an effort.

She reached for her phone where it sat in her purse from the night before, and she knew it would be Brooke before she even checked the caller I.D.

"How many times?" came Brooke's pleading voice before Peyton had even said a word.

"Honestly? I don't even know," Peyton said softly, glancing back to her bedroom door.

"What does that mean!?" Brooke asked excitedly. She actually squealed a little, and Peyton could only laugh.

"It means I lost count," Peyton admitted, and there was that squeal again.

"And how many times did you...?"

"All of them," Peyton interrupted. "And then some."

"OK, Scott men know how to _satisfy_," Brooke said, like it was an accomplishment both Nathan and Lucas - and maybe Brooke and Peyton, too - should be proud of. "Can you _please_ tell me the entire story of how you went from saying you hated him, even though we all knew damn well you didn't, to leaving the party and having countless orgasms?"

"Brooke!" Peyton hissed. She could have sworn she heard Nathan cursing and groaning in the background.

"What? I need the details," Brooke said nonchalantly.

"I'm not...not now."

"He's still there!?"

"It was late, or...early...when we went to sleep, and..."

"Enough said. _Lucas Scott_." Brooke said it as though she wanted to thank that blonde man for how he was making her best friend feel. "Shut up! I'm allowed."

"What?" Peyton asked with a laugh.

"Nathan told me I'm being nosey."

"You are."

"But I'm your best friend!" Brooke pointed out in her defense.

"Yeah, look...I'm gonna go," Peyton said, suddenly remembering that she hadn't actually had any food and she'd been starving since...well, a long time.

"Yeah..." Brooke said, then she giggled, and Peyton grimaced when she heard Nathan say _'get off the phone so I can have you again before I leave'_. "Me too."

"Go," Peyton said.

Then the line went dead. She could only chuckle and shake her head.

She ventured to the bathroom in the hall - still not wanting to wake Lucas - and washed her face quickly, applying just mascara and lip gloss. She ran a brush through her hair and smiled at her reflection in the mirror after brushing her teeth.

She went into the kitchen and began searching for anything to eat that would ease the rumble in her stomach. She settled on some dry cereal, just because it was close at hand, and then started brewing a pot of coffee.

When Lucas awoke to an empty bed and sunlight pouring through the windows, he smiled to himself after the initial disorientation wore off. He got his bearings, helped along by the scent of Peyton lingering in the room, and he sat up in her bed, looking around.

He took notice of all the things he didn't care about when he was blinded by her. Of course, he'd caught glimpses of things the night before, but he'd be crazy to look at paintings when he could look at Peyton instead. There was dark grey paint on the walls, and black furniture, and red accents. It was an adult room. It _felt_ like her. He liked it in there.

Except she wasn't with him, and he didn't like that part at all.

He heard a noise from the kitchen and stood from the bed, lazily raking his hands through his bed head before opening the door and following the distinct sound of the coffee maker.

Coffee sounded good.

She sounded even better.

She was wearing just a black satin robe, and she had one leg bent at the knee, her heel resting against the opposite ankle in a way that was so insanely sexy, he almost couldn't handle it. She didn't even know he was there. _That_ was what made it sexy. She didn't have to try.

He walked up behind her where she was standing at the counter, and rest his hands on her hips, burying his face in her hair.

"'Morning," he mumbled when she leaned back against him a bit. She blindly reached back and wrapped her arm around him, and if he could have seen her face, he would have seen a raised eyebrow.

"Are you naked?" she asked knowingly.

"Is that a problem?"

"You tell me."

"No," he said.

He swept her hair aside and kissed the column of her neck, and she was melting into him just a bit more. The coffee was forgotten when he tugged the sash of her satin robe, undoing the garment from behind her. His hands grazed her collarbone when he pulled her robe down over her shoulders, and he smirked against her skin when she let out a throaty sound. The satin pooled at their feet, and she tried to turn in his arms, but he wouldn't let her.

"Stay there," he commanded, and she whined.

He just about lost it every time she did that.

His hand traveled down her body, stopping at a few of his favourite places, and a few of her favourite places, and he kissed her neck almost the entire time. When his digits dipped down between her legs, she dropped her head and leaned forward, clutching the counter.

She felt like a teenager again. She felt like every touch was the best touch, and every single time he got even close to her core, she was trembling. She hadn't felt that since she was about 16 with her first boyfriend.

He nudged her thigh with his knee, forcing her legs apart a little more. He loved this. She was putty in his hands. Literally. He held her with his free hand splayed across her stomach and pressing her against himself, and he could feel her shallow breathing and her rapid heartbeat against his own chest.

"Luke," she breathed out, trying to turn around. He wasn't having it.

"Just enjoy it," he mumbled against her neck. "Sweetheart."

He actually laughed when she let out a moan at that little term of endearment, and he could tell she was about to speak, so slipped two fingers into her. Her hand covered his over her stomach, desperate for something to grab onto. Lucas moved his thumb against her most sensitive spot, and she was almost involuntarily moving herself against his hand. She was incredible. She _felt_ incredible. Soft and warm and somehow just perfect. She'd move back against him, and he had to stifle his own moans a couple times. She wasn't doing it on purpose. Everything with her seemed to be the most amazing accident.

"Lucas..." It was a mere whisper that had him smiling. He _really_ loved the way she said his name.

She wove her hand together with his, and mere seconds later, she dropped her head back against him as she came. He literally had to hold her up. They stayed like that for a few moments until he moved both his hands to rest upon her hips, and placed a sweet, delicate kiss to her bare shoulder.

"Why are you being so good to me?" she asked. She made it sound like she was in awe of it. They were both aware that she wasn't just talking about how generous he'd been the night before. And again that morning, apparently.

She had _no_ idea what she did to him. He was convinced.

"It's easy."

"No," she insisted, shaking her head. "I'm a bitch."

"No, you aren't," he said, finally turning her in his arms. The expression on his face was deadly serious. "You're not."

"I haven't been nice to you."

"That's _so_ not true," he said in a low voice, and she laughed as she rolled her eyes. She was kind of starting to like that innate ability of his to turn everything into an innuendo.

"I could be nicer," she said after a moment, her hands traveling down his sides.

"Peyton..."

"You're naked in my kitchen," she stated. "Don't get shy now."

"I'm not shy. You just don't have to prove anything to me."

She pressed herself against him, her hand traveling down between them and her fingers wrapping around his hard length. She leaned up to speak in his ear as he hissed her name.

"You don't want me to drop to my knees in front of you?"

It was a throwback to that day so long ago; that first time they really spoke. He didn't know how she remembered that. He almost hadn't.

But no, he couldn't say he didn't want that very thing.

Her eyes were mischievous right before she kissed him, and then, when her lips were focused elsewhere, he seriously wondered if he'd met his match.

----

"I don't know anything about you," he said, stepping out of the bathroom after a shower.

Peyton had insisted they shower separately, and his arguments about conserving water were thinly veiled excuses, at which Peyton merely raised a brow.

This, however, wasn't much better. She'd needed a few moments away from him to conserve her sanity and a touch of self control. Now, with him standing with just a towel wrapped around his waist and running a hand through his wet hair, all that self control was flying out the window.

Little did she know, he wasn't coping much better. She'd made the bed, and was laying there in just a tank top and a pair of little shorts with her legs stretched in front of her, crossed one over the other. She had a book in her hands, the title of which he couldn't see, and which didn't really matter. She was reading. That was sexy.

"Um, I'm pretty sure you do," she said, smiling at him. He knew what she meant. It just wasn't what he meant.

"No. Like...other than where you grew up, what you do, how your place is decorated, and the fact that you're _amazing_ in bed," he listed off, making her laugh, "I don't know anything about you."

"Not much to tell," she said dismissively, closing her book.

"Liar."

"I am not!"

"You're not being forthcoming," he said with a raised brow.

"You're being invasive," she retorted as he lay down on the bed, facing her and propping himself up with his elbow, his head resting on his hand.

"If there's not much to tell, then start talking."

She glowered at him, but he simply stared back at her, waiting for her to do what they both knew she would. He didn't miss the way her eyes flicked down to his torso, but he had to ignore it, as much as he would have loved to just toss that towel aside and pull those little shorts off her.

"Where do you want me to start?" she asked with a shrug. He smirked smugly and she let out a quick breath.

"You and Brooke."

"Best friends...forever," Peyton said, smiling when Lucas did. "We grew up together in this tiny little town. Best friends since the first day of the first grade."

"Why?"

"Why what?" she asked.

"Why did you become friends? Kids only become friends for silly reasons that are always adorable," he said with a smile. "I bet you were cute."

"We both had pigtails in our hair, and none of the other girls did," Peyton admitted, and Lucas laughed.

"See? Cute."

"We did everything together. Our first dates? We went on a double date," she said, making them both smile. "Cheerleading and parties and school..."

"You were a cheerleader?" he asked, wide eyed.

"Yeah. Why?" she asked incredulously. She knew what he was getting at. She wasn't the cheeriest. "What? You can't picture me in the skirt, cheering on the basketball team?"

"Oh, I can picture it," he said slyly. "In fact...give me a minute."

"Stop it." She leaned over and swatted his thigh.

"OK, OK," he said. "Parents?"

Her demeanor changed just a little bit. She took a deep breath and seemed to tense just enough for him to notice. She didn't know that she wanted to tell him about it all. Sure, he'd told her about his family, but she didn't like talking about hers. At all, in fact. It was too hard.

"Are you still hungry? We can't survive on coffee alone," she said, reaching for the phone. "I'll order in."

"Hey," he said, moving towards her and taking the phone from her hands. He settled himself on top of her and kissed the tip of her nose gently. "You don't have to make excuses. You don't have to say anything you don't want to."

But dammit, now he was even more curious. What was it that she didn't want to say.

"I don't understand you," she said softly, shaking her head. "You're so...forward, but then you do things like this, and...I dunno."

"You should know by now that I can't be stereotyped." He moved off her and lay on his side next to her.

She really couldn't argue with that.

"My mom," she said softly, grabbing his attention. "She died when I was eight." His breath seemed to stop, and she locked eyes with him again. "It was a car accident."

The story was so familiar that they just looked at each other for a moment. She was wondering how it was possible they had that tragedy in common, and he was wondering why she hadn't said anything to him the evening before. Sure, they got up to some other things, but she had the opportunity. He deduced that she just didn't want to say anything.

"Peyton...I'm sorry. I...I pushed you. You didn't have to..."

"Lucas, it's OK," she insisted. "I'm almost 30 years old. I should be able to talk about it."

"I don't get to," he said softly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said, shaking his head. "You don't have to be. I've been living with it forever. It's kind of nice that you know, though." She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair at his temple. "It makes me feel...Closer to them somehow. Like I don't have to hide it."

"I can't even imagine. I mean...my dad's never really been the same, but he was still there," she said. "He was a little sadder, and I think...I think he was scared for me, but..."

"He's your dad," Lucas said, smiling at her when she nodded her head. "Well, he did a good job."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear that," she said softly. She leaned over and kissed him, and she rest her hand on his cheek. "Food."

"Hmm." He grabbed her again before she could move, and she smiled when he kissed her. "Thank you. For telling me."

"Yeah," she said softly. "You, too."

She was in big trouble. _Big_ trouble. She didn't hate him anymore.

She _really_ didn't hate him anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

Lucas joined Peyton on the sofa, the evening's Yankees game playing on the screen in front of them, and she laughed at him. He loved to hear her laugh, but he didn't necessarily love that it was at his expense.

"What?"

"Do you spend every Saturday in your underpants?" she asked through her giggles.

"No. This is all I have. And don't complain," he warned.

"I'm not complaining. It's just funny. I feel overdressed," she said as he draped his arm over her shoulder.

They were sipping bottles of beer, watching the game, and it was all her idea. He never took her for a baseball fan. When he'd told her it was sexy, she told him she was almost getting sick of hearing that. But only almost. Not quite.

"So take off your clothes," he said, as though it were the most logic thing he could suggest.

"Eventually."

"Now."

"Lucas, focus on the game," she said before taking a sip of her beer.

"Nate and I have season tickets," he told her. She sensed he was just desperate for the subject change. "Right along the third base line. Sixth row back."

"So why aren't you there?" she asked, turning to him. She really made it sound like she didn't know.

"You're here."

"I'm not Derek Jeter hitting a line drive to left center and driving in two RBIs," she argued.

"OK. Stop. You can't say things like that," he said, shaking his head. "So hot."

"Seriously. You should have gone to the game with your brother."

"My brother doesn't look as good sipping a beer as you do," he told her, shrugging one shoulder when she playfully glared at him. "I called him when you were in the shower. He took Brooke."

She laughed again. God, he loved that laugh. He wished he'd heard it more before.

"Brooke at a baseball game. She must be crazy about him," Peyton insisted. "I think it's kind of nice."

"Brothers and best friends," he said under his breath.

She knew they needed to have a conversation. Sure, they could say that it was just about the sex, but they were about 12 hours and 10 real conversations away from that being true. She could have asked him to leave in the morning, but she hadn't wanted to, and it didn't have anything to do with the way he'd said hello. She found herself enjoying his company - though she'd said she never would. She assumed it had always been that way, and she just didn't want to admit it.

But they worked together. They were both senior employees of the same company. They had to be professional and rational and adult about this situation. If they had a situation. The way he'd just said that phrase led her to believe that they definitely had a situation.

She really didn't know what it was yet.

"Maybe next game, you and I could go," he suggested.

He was making a date. They were dating.

She smiled and leaned over to kiss him. She didn't say a word, but he thought he may just have his answer.

----

By 10:00, they were back in Peyton's bedroom. They'd gotten completely distracted from the game that was playing. Well, she'd gotten distracted. When he teased her about it, she told him that if she had been sitting there in just her underwear next to him, they wouldn't have even made it to the 3rd inning. He had no rebuttal.

"I'm bored."

"What?" Lucas asked, slightly offended. She ran her hand back and forth over his stomach slowly, and somehow that was as good as a reassurance.

"I'm not this much of a homebody. I don't think I've spent a whole day in my apartment in...ever," she admitted.

"I love these days," he said, leaning his head back against the pillow again and looking to the ceiling. "And not just because we've spent most of it naked."

"Luke!"

"What?" he laughed, faking innocence. "I used to have all these obligations. I love being VP. No one expects you to do all that extra-hours stuff."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if one of our authors has a book signing, I don't have to be there," he explained. "Or if there's a magazine issue launch, no one thinks I'll actually go. It's great."

"Low expectations," she mumbled.

"No. It's more like...they know I've paid my dues," he said with a shrug.

"Probably not. They probably bitch about you at the water cooler."

"Probably," he said after a moment, and they both laughed. "Whatever. I'm their boss. If they weren't bitching about that, they'd be bitching about something else."

She curled into his side a little more and draped her leg over his, and he started trailing his hand up and down her side.

"I like talking to you," she said softly.

"I always liked talking to you," he said. He pressed a kiss to her hair, then moved away from her. At her questioning glance, he explained. "We're going out."

"Out?"

"A walk. Something. You're getting antsy."

"I was kind of enjoying just laying with you."

"Sweet, but you're lying. Get up," he insisted again. Maybe she wasn't lying. He'd learned that she changed her mind fairly often.

"And what are you going to wear?" she asked with a raised brow. She stood from the bed and smiled when he unabashedly looked her up and down. She adored that he still looked at her like he hadn't just spent the better part of a 24 hours naked with her.

"I have pants," he said, shrugging one shoulder.

She glanced at him, pulling on his boxers again, and she didn't know what it was about him, but she didn't want to leave her apartment when he was there. He kind of made her want to sit still and enjoy the quiet, or just talk. It wasn't that she was a crazy party girl or anything. In fact, the majority of her Saturday nights were spent at home. But her days, she'd go shopping, or to the park, or just out walking the city for something to do. She and Brooke would get together for lunch on a Saturday, or brunch on a Sunday.

"We're not going anywhere," she stated firmly. "Come here."

She wrapped herself in the sheet and walked across the room, taking his hand in hers. She led them to the living room, then pulled open the sliding door to step out onto her balcony. He stood behind her, his hands resting on the railing, and his chin on her shoulder.

"Your view is awesome."

"You have a park view," she said with a chuckle, recalling one of their earlier conversations.

"I like city lights," he said, shrugging one shoulder.

She leaned back against him, relishing in the feel of his hard body against her own. She felt something comforting about just standing like that. Something that felt a little like safety. She wanted to just stand there with him and enjoy the buzz of the city beneath them. A warm summer night in the arms of a fairly spectacular man.

But there was something she needed to know, and it had been bugging her all day. Well, since it happened. He had to know it was coming.

"Luke, why did you do it?" she asked quietly.

He knew what he was referring to. The money. The work situation that had her ignoring him, and mad at him, and saying she hated him.

"And don't tell me that it was just business," she warned him as an afterthought.

"I know you don't believe that, but it's the truth," he said softly. "It wasn't anything personal. I wasn't...Look, the merger happened because the publishing company needed the help. We weren't sinking, but...we didn't want to get to that point."

"So what does that have to do with what you did?"

He was thankful that she wasn't using words like manipulation, or sabotage, or any of those other words she'd thrown at him before with regards to the same issue.

"I did my research, Peyton. It was nothing vindictive. We needed the money to sign just one or two big-name authors, and we'll be better than ever. And the label has rights to any and all books on tape."

"Books on tape?" she asked skeptically, turning in his arms.

"It's a recorded product, and I'm a master negotiator," he said, shrugging his shoulder when she laughed softly. "We're in the process of luring a couple big names. And one of them is about to sell his book rights to a production company, and you'll get soundtrack control when the movie is made."

She kind of didn't know what to say. It was clear he hadn't just done it to hurt her - like he'd said - and that he really had thought it all out. She should have trusted Steve, even if she hadn't wanted to trust Lucas.

"Why didn't you just _tell_ me that?" Her eyes locked with his, and she could tell he was resisting the urge to kiss her.

"Confidentiality agreement," he said. "Now that you're a senior executive, it's not an issue."

"I'm sorry," she said eagerly, shaking her head. "I was...I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be," he insisted. "You really shouldn't be. I know how it looked."

"Still, I got all emotional, and...I'm sorry."

She wrapped her arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around her, and when he started tugging gently at the sheet she had around herself, she pulled away and looked at him. He was smiling.

"Make it up to me."

"Haven't I been doing that since last night?" she inquired, and he chuckled as he pulled her back inside.

"No. We just started talking about it."

"Hmm," she murmured as he smirked at his own logic. "Well, in that case."

She started pushing him towards the bedroom, but he stopped her so he could tug the sheet away from her completely. His hands traveled up and down her sides, and he backed her against the closest wall, gently this time. She pressed her hips forward, and he smirked at her as he pressed himself against her.

"You are so damn beautiful," he said, shaking his head like he really couldn't believe it.

"Just kiss me," she breathed out.

So he did. He wanted to yell at her until she knew how stunning he thought she was, but he wasn't able to deny her what she wanted, and that was just one of the things he'd learned since the night before.

One hand held her close to him while the other was buried in her hair, and he groaned when she grabbed his ass. He pulled away from her and smirked, and she just looked at him and shrugged her shoulder innocently, and they both laughed a little. She tried to push him away a little bit so they could make it the rest of the way to her bed, but he wasn't having it. He pinned her between his arms, and her hands moved to cup his elbows.

"Luke..."

"Baby, I've wanted to fuck you up against a wall from the first moment I met you," he said gruffly.

She normally wasn't one to enjoy such crass statements, but he somehow made even that sound sweet. She had really no idea why or how that was. Maybe it was that he was just as sweet as he was sexy, and sometimes downright dirty. She was enjoying it all.

She was about to say something - what, she couldn't even recall - when he grabbed her thighs, and with a little help from her, wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel his hardness against her, and she arched her back in anticipation.

There was no foreplay. The foreplay was his explanation and her apology. He'd been so insistent, since they'd gotten to her apartment the night before, that he wanted to take his time with her. But this wasn't the time to take time. She was aching for him, and he got the impression that if he didn't just do what he'd said he was going to do, she'd get angry. God, he adored that.

He entered her before she was really ready, but she wasn't complaining, and the throaty noise she let out proved it. She was loud and she didn't care, but Lucas kissed her, letting his tongue trace hers before pulling away and shushing her. Her eyes narrowed at him, but neither took the time to think any more about it. He still hadn't moved, and she was getting anxious. Positively frustrated, actually.

"Luke. Please..." She shifted her hips against his, and he bit back a groan. "Please."

He held her tightly with one arm, bracing the other against the wall above her shoulder, and he started pushing into her as hard as their position would allow. Her heels dug into his back, and he let out a gruff sound. Those damn legs of hers seemed to haunt every single thing he did.

"Peyton...Fuck..."

She rolled her hips against his, and he cursed again. He was always calling her a potty mouth, but she knew he had his moments, too. She continued that action, almost meeting his every thrust, until he demanded that she stop. She didn't.

"Peyton, I can't..."

"Don't try, baby," she said breathlessly.

He wanted it to last longer than that, longer than just five mind-blowing minutes. Or however many minutes it was. He honestly wasn't checking the clock. He didn't know if his desire to slow it down was for himself or for her. He assumed both. He should have known that fulfilling a fantasy would have him coming sooner than ever. He wasn't a selfish lover, and he guessed she knew that already, but he slowed his movements anyway, and she let out a disappointed mewl.

"Luke, don't stop," she pleaded.

She had one hand running through the hair at the back of his neck. The other was clutching his bicep, and when he shook his head, she leaned forward and kissed him hard, then reached down between them as she pulled away, making him groan again as she began moving her hand against herself, working with him to bring her to the edge.

He started moving faster again, spurred on by how impossibly sexy she was. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted, and the way her hand hit his pelvis as she rubbed herself had him moving even faster and harder still.

It surprised him that she came before he did, calling his name and clutching his shoulder. He almost sighed his relief when he followed her mere seconds later, thankful that he didn't have to hold out any longer.

"God, Peyton," he breathed out with a couple final thrusts.

They were both completely exhausted. She still had her legs wrapped around him tightly, and he had one hand braced against the wall, and his forehead was resting on her collar bone as they both tried to steady their breathing. He was still inside her, and she tightened herself around him once, making him groan, and her laugh.

"Don't do that," he insisted. He looked at her, and she was biting her bottom lip. Her eyelids were drooping in that blissful way he'd learned they did after sex.

"Let me down."

"No."

"Luke," she whined. He smiled. She flexed her inner muscles again, and he sucked in a breath.

"Stop that," he said seriously, though there was a smirk on his lips.

"Let me down," she repeated.

He carefully moved away from her, his calloused hands caressing her thighs as she set her feet on the floor. He expected her to walk away, to put space between them, but she just tipped her head back and leaned against the wall. He couldn't help himself, and he rest his hands on her hips.

"Everything you expected?" she asked with a smirk.

"I didn't make that clear?"

She moved away the wall, then, bending down to grab the discarded bed sheet, tossing it at him before walking away. He was watching her, all naked and swaying hips, and she stood in the doorway to her bedroom, throwing a glance over her shoulder to see him just standing in the same spot with that sheet in his hands. She closed the door behind her, and he heard her giggle.

"Hey!" he called as he started walking.

He'd told her before to stop trying to walk away from him, but he realized quickly that she didn't have to. He found himself always following her.

----

When the sun came up, it poured through the open blinds, casting rays of light across the bed, and waking Peyton up. She noted that she was up before him again. Her back was to his chest, and his arm was resting on her thigh. She could feel his steady breathing and his heart beating against her back, and she smiled.

She was kind of starting to think she could get used to waking up with him.

She didn't want to move. So she didn't. She just closed her eyes again and attempted to drift off back to sleep. When Lucas let out a gruff sound and pulled her closer as he inhaled a deep breath, she smiled.

"'Morning," she said softly.

"Hmm."

"Sleep OK?"

"Mhmm," he mumbled into her hair.

"I'm still tired," she said.

"Sleep."

She turned in his arms and he sighed in contentment when she rest her head on his chest and draped her leg over his. They both fell back to sleep for a few more hours, and when his phone rang for about the twelfth time since that Friday night, Lucas woke. Peyton stirred in his arms, but he didn't get up. She smiled to herself when he dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

It was a strange thing, she thought, that he seemed to have so many different sides. Headstrong business man, playboy with attitude and a killer smile, and then this sweet, kind, caring and gentle guy who made sure she was covered over with a blanket while she was sleeping. She found herself really liking all those things, all those sides of him. Liking them probably more than she should.

"Do you have anywhere to be today?" she asked.

"No. I want to stay here," he admitted, and she smiled.

"OK."

"Is it?"

"You think I wouldn't tell you if it wasn't?" she asked with a raised brow. "I want you to stay."

He wrapped his arms around her, and her eyes met his as he smiled.

"Then I'll stay."

"Good," she sighed. Her stomach growled, and he chuckled. "I'm not getting up."

"I will," he said softly, kissing her temple before standing.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you breakfast. Don't you dare move," he commanded, and all she could do was smile from her place. "Promise me."

"I promise."

He winked before he walked out of the room, and Peyton reached for her phone from where it sat on the night stand, quickly texting Brooke to say that if the brunette called that day, they weren't best friends anymore. It was their standard empty threat, and Peyton knew that Brooke would read between the lines and know exactly what was being said.

When Lucas stepped into the bedroom twenty minutes later with a tray of eggs, toast, coffee and juice, Peyton stretched in her bed and smiled at him cutely.

"This is amazing," she said, tasting a bite of the food they were sharing. "But...well, you're already in my bed, so you don't need to woo me."

"Nonsense. Women love this shit."

"OK, Romeo," she said after her laughter died down. "You really think you're an expert, don't you?"

"Are you saying I'm not?" He raised an eyebrow and she blushed, knowing damn well what he was really implying.

"I'm saying that all those crazy notions are...crazy notions," she said with a shrug of her shoulder. "What if I didn't like breakfast?"

"You do," he said flatly.

"But what if I didn't?"

"Then I'd simply find another way to get you to you make that cute little noise you make when you're happy," he said, smiling at her.

"What!?"

"It's this little sigh with...I can't explain it. It's seriously adorable."

"I don't want to be adorable," she said with a pout.

"Too bad," he laughed. "You are. I mean, when you're not yelling or pissing me off." She punched his arm. "Ow! Or abusing me."

"I don't like you."

"We've been over this," he said, reaching for his coffee mug.

She scowled at him, and he leaned over to kiss her temple.

Adorable.

----

They spent the rest of their day lazing around her apartment, much the way they had the day before. She insisted on washing his shirt and boxers with a load of her own clothes, and so he lay around in just a towel for a while as the laundry spun. She got distracted and told him that if he wasn't going to wear proper clothes, she should at least get to reap the benefits of it. He had her on her back on the sofa within seconds.

"You know you only call me 'baby' when we're having sex?" he pointed out as she folded the wash, tossing his shorts to him where he lay on her bed.

"You make it sound like we've been a couple for years."

"I'm just saying." He shrugged one shoulder and she shook her head.

"I'm kind of...lost to the world. I can't be held accountable for the crazy things I say," she told him.

"Is having a pet name for me that crazy?"

"Yes," she answered evenly.

"How come?" he asked. "I have a couple for you."

"You only use them when you're trying to drive me nuts. In good or bad ways."

"Hmm."

"Hmm? That's your argument?" she asked in amusement.

"Arguing will get me in trouble," he said. "And I'm warm right now."

"It's August."

"Shut up. I mean I like your bed and I don't feel like being kicked out of it," he elaborated.

"I'll bet," she said, raising one eyebrow.

"Look, I thought Friday night was all I was gonna get," he explained. "Everything else has been bonus, and I'm actively trying not to screw up my shot at coming back here again."

She smiled and set her laundry basket on the floor - only half the items folded - and moved onto the bed, climbing onto his lap.

"You're so cute," she said softly, resting her hands on his chest. "And you're probably coming back here again."

"Yeah?" he asked, his hands coming to rest on her thighs.

"Uh huh. And next time, you might even get fair warning so you can bring clothes," she said.

"Well, in my defense, I really didn't need them."

"Luke!"

"What?" he laughed. "Oh, come on. It's true."

"Maybe a little," she said coyly.

When his phone rang just before 5:00, Lucas decided to actually check and see who was calling before just ignoring it. He stood from where he and Peyton had been listening to music and talking on the sofa, and reached for his cell from his jacket pocket.

Deb.

Shit.

He took the call, slipping onto the balcony to do so, and Peyton had the sinking feeling that he was going to have to leave. She shouldn't have been disappointed, given that they'd spent over two full days together at her place with really no interruptions. She'd known he'd have to leave that evening anyway, but when it was actually happening, she didn't like it.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping back into the room. "I've gotta go. We've got this bi-weekly family dinner thing, and Deb's cooking, and..."

"Hey," she cut him of, "it's OK."

"I guess. I'd just rather stay here with you."

"Well, as sweet as that is, you should go spend time with your family," she said, standing from the sofa.

She almost regretted her word choice, but he didn't seem fazed by it. They were his family after all, and Deb, from what he'd told her, sounded like a lovely woman who'd always looked out for him. The only one she had a problem with was Dan, and the few little stories and anecdotes Lucas had told her certainly hadn't helped. She'd always gotten a bad vibe from Dan Scott, and that certainly wasn't waning.

They walked back to the bedroom so he could get dressed, and he explained that Nathan was going to give him all sorts of flack for wearing the same suit he wore Friday night. Peyton just laughed and said that Nathan - by the sounds of the texts she'd received from Brooke - would probably be showing up in the same clothes, too.

She kneeled on the edge of the bed as he stood in front of her, and she took the fabric of his tie in her hands, tying a perfect Windsor knot that had Lucas raising his eyebrow appreciatively. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and smiled at him, and he rest his hands on her hips, immediately jealous that she could wear just cotton shorts and a tee shirt when he had to wear a suit and tie.

"Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"What happens at work?" she asked quietly.

"You're a VP and you need me to outline what we do?"

"You know what I mean," she said, locking eyes with him.

"Business as usual," he said with a shrug of his shoulder. "We just...do what we've been doing." At her raised eyebrow, he amended his statement. "I mean at the office. Not here."

"Right."

"Are you...? Is that OK?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah," she answered quickly. "Yeah. It's just...It's going to be really hard to know what's under your suits and not be able to...do what I know I'll want to do."

"You're...God, you're killing me," he muttered, closing his eyes and gripping her a little tighter.

"Sorry, baby."

His eyes opened and he smiled at her, and she kissed him quickly. He really liked that little pet name, as cliché as it was. He'd never liked it before. He'd gone so far as to request that women not call him by it, or by any other term of endearment. Peyton was different. It hadn't taken him any time at all to realize it.

"I've gotta go," he said regrettably.

"I'll walk you out."

She looped her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder as they made the all-too-short walk to her apartment door, and she smiled up at him weakly.

"So, this was fun," he said.

"Fun?"

"Wasn't it?"

"I guess I just thought that a literary man like you would have a better word," she said, laughing when he rolled his eyes.

"I have plenty of words," he said softly. "But I also have 10 minutes to get across town."

"Excuses," she teased, waving her hand in the air. He clasped his around it and brought her knuckles to his lips. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He leaned down and kissed her, then wrapped her in his arms, speaking right next to her ear. "Wear panties."

She laughed that laugh he loved, and he gave her a deadly serious look until she nodded her head.

She didn't know what else to say, and neither did he, so he just kissed her once more before reaching for the doorknob. She smiled at him as he walked through the door, and once she'd locked it behind him, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes.

All she could think, when she tried to wrap her head around how things had progressed between the two of them, was that there was a thin line between love and hate.

A really, really thin line, that you can't even see until you've crossed it, one way or the other.


	10. Chapter 10

Peyton wasn't surprised on Sunday evening when Brooke showed up with a bag that held Chinese food, ice cream, and in true Brooke Davis style, a box of condoms. She explained that the food was for energy, the ice cream was for girl talk, and the condoms were because from what she'd heard, Peyton's stash probably needed to be replenished.

"Tell me everything," Brooke insisted as the two sat at Peyton's kitchen table with their plates of food in front of them and a couple glasses of wine.

So Peyton told Brooke everything. Well, not _everything_. She explained about Friday night - keeping a few of those details to herself. She said that Lucas just got a little jealous, and he said some sweet things. Brooke didn't need to know about Lucas' family situation, though Peyton wasn't sure Nathan hadn't told her, or wouldn't tell her. Peyton just knew it wasn't her secret to tell, and so she wouldn't say a word.

Brooke told Peyton about the baseball game, and how she and Nathan actually decided to be 'exclusive', hence the public outing. Peyton smiled at Brooke's blush, both girls knowing that the relationship was a big deal.

"So what are you two calling yourselves?" Brooke asked after Peyton explained that it wasn't just a one night - or one weekend - thing.

"I don't know," Peyton answered. "I guess we're...seeing each other? God. It's crazy, Brooke."

"Because he makes you feel like a teenager, and you can talk to him about anything, and you don't ever want him to _not_ be in your bed?" Brooke asked. "I know the feeling."

"What the hell, right?" Peyton laughed. "We're almost 30! We shouldn't feel like this."

"The hell we shouldn't!" Brooke insisted. "Come on. This is _fun_."

"It is fun." Peyton smiled secretly over Lucas using the same word.

"So what happens at work?"

"Nothing."

"So, you've just spent two days naked in your apartment, and now you're going to spend five days fully clothed in your office?" Brooke asked incredulously.

"Thanks for the reminder."

"It's...it just won't be easy."

"Yeah, I know," Peyton admitted. "But we're professionals. We can control ourselves. We don't even need to see each other if we don't want to."

"Your offices are right next to one another."

"Right," Peyton said softly, and they both laughed. "This is going to suck."

"Yeah, it is," Brooke said sympathetically.

When Brooke left around 11:00, Peyton got ready for bed and attempted to lay in her cool sheets and get to sleep. But Lucas was everywhere in her bedroom. The scent of his cologne lingered on her sheets, and it was somehow impossible for her to sleep on her own. It was ridiculous. She'd only really slept with him for a few mere hours, and yet she tossed and turned until well after midnight, unable to get settled.

She finally got up, put her hands on her hips, and stared at her bed, as though just the cold glare would somehow make it cooperate with her need for sleep.

She knew what she had to do. She changed her bedding, balling up those rich red linens and tossing them into the bottom of her hamper, and when she lay down again, she sighed and got comfortable.

But she kind of missed his smell on her sheets.

----

Peyton walked into the building on Monday morning, breezing past the front desk and straight back to her office. The way she saw it, the less she saw Lucas, the better. She would scurry to her office, close the door, and work away all day hopefully without ever having to see him. It'd be easy.

Except he was walking out of his office at the exact moment she was walking past, and she noticed he was wearing that navy blue suit she loved that she'd made him promise not to wear.

But, she was wearing the tight black skirt he'd made her promise not to wear. He looked her up and down once, and she knew he understood what such a tight skirt meant.

"You promised," he said, his voice low and his eyes narrowed.

"So did you."

"I lied."

"So did I," she said with a shrug of her shoulder.

"But...But that's not fair," he tried as she started into her office. His tone was boyish, and he was pouting just a little. He followed her into her office and closed the door behind them.

"Isn't it?" she challenged as she set down her things and got herself settled.

"Mean." She laughed and he somehow managed to keep his distance. He'd seen her smile more in the last three days than in the entire time he'd known her. "I'm in meetings all day."

"Good."

"Good?"

"I don't need the distraction, thank you," she said seriously. "So go to your meetings and try not to walk past my office."

"You'll have your door closed, won't you?"

"I have to," she said softly. She stood again and walked around it to stand in front, crossing one leg over the other, and folding her arms over her chest. "This isn't easy."

"I know." He boldly walked towards her and kissed her quickly. She let out a noise in protest. "Sorry. I can't...I can't help it."

"Try."

"I am."

"Try harder."

He chuckled and winked at her, then made his way to the door again. "See you later, Miss Sawyer."

He vaguely heard her mumble_ 'Oh my God' _before the door clicked closed behind him.

He couldn't say he wasn't thinking the same thing.

Monday was easy for them both. She locked herself in her office, leaving only for lunch, and only because Mia had done an amazing job with a particularly tedious task Peyton had assigned to her, and Peyton insisted she buy the girl lunch as a thank you. The two women walked past Lucas' office, and Peyton could actually hear the breath he took when he saw her glide by his open door.

He was in meetings the rest of the day, and while his mind would wander to standing beside her bed, her naked on the sheets and giving him that come hither look that he was absolutely powerless to, and...Well, you get the idea. He'd simply clear his throat and smile at the people he was meeting with, and his natural charm would make up for those moments of complete distraction.

And yet, knowing that she was somewhere in the building, wearing that black skirt with nothing underneath...That was just torture. He was sure she'd know that, too. He'd worn that navy blue three piece suit with that light blue shirt underneath, solely because she'd told him it was her favourite. Two could play that teasing little game.

She was admittedly _so_ much better at it.

He'd wanted to ask her to come over to his place, or if he could go to her place. He was craving her in the worse way (or the best way, depending on how he chose to look at it at any given moment). But when Nathan called Lucas before he'd left the office, he insisted that since the Twins were in town, Lucas wasn't _'bitching out and skipping the game'_. Lucas sighed into the phone and rolled his eyes, but said he'd go. It _was_ going to be a good game...

Peyton was, surprisingly, already gone when he went to say goodnight, and when he texted her to say he'd thought about her all day long, she replied with a single word. _Good_. He had to smile. He knew what that meant. He knew that meant she'd thought about him all day, too.

He went home and changed into his jeans and Yankees tee shirt, and he and Nathan met out front of Yankee Stadium since Nathan was coming from a meeting over some sort of investment opportunity. Nathan may not work, but he had a hell of an investment advisor that was actively ensuring that the youngest Scott wouldn't _have_ to work.

"So," Nathan said as they sat in their seats, "you over her yet?"

"No way. I'm...no."

"So it really was different."

"You have no idea. She's...She's incredible," Lucas said, undisguised awe in his voice. "I can't get her out of my head. This weekend was...I've never had that much fun with a woman." Nathan raised his brow, and Lucas rolled his eyes. He wanted to say that he didn't mean the sex, but it wouldn't have been true. That part was more fun than ever, too. "She's this funny, smart, amazing woman."

"I get what you're saying," Nathan insisted. "Brooke and I...we're together."

"You've _been_ together." Lucas raised an eyebrow and Nathan smirked proudly.

"No, I mean, we talked about it. We're exclusive. Her word, not mine."

"That's great," Lucas said seriously. "I've got to see Peyton every day and try to pretend that it doesn't bother me that I'm totally falling for her and I have no idea what she wants."

Nathan turned to his brother with a near blank expression on his face. He blinked a couple times, then shook his head.

"Did you just say you're falling for her?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

The brothers exchanged a glance, then the PA announcer told them to stand for the anthem, and they placed their hands over their hearts.

----

Tuesday was torture.

They were both in meetings all day. With each other, and about five other senior executives. She was sitting across from him, a low cut tank top beneath her blazer - a blazer she took off midway through the morning. The end-of-summer heat wave had her sweeping her hair up off her neck, using a pen to somehow keep it in place.

He'd choked on his drink when he saw her wrap her hand around her glass of ice water, place her hand on the side of her neck in an attempt to cool herself down. She looked over at him like he was crazy when he started coughing, and the two of them shared a secret look. She leaned over the table to pour him a new glass of water, and he croaked out a thank you. He wondered if she knew he'd look down her top.

Well after 5:00, their meeting let out and their colleagues headed straight for the elevator, but Peyton went to her office with Lucas following behind. She wasn't sure if he was just following her because he had to, or because he _had_ to. Did he need to gather his things from his own office, or did he just need her?

She hoped to God it was the latter.

She'd barely been able to function all day, sitting so close to him. She could smell that cologne, and the way his tie was just a little off center had her wanting to climb across the table and adjust it for him. Or take it off him. She'd catch him glancing at her cleavage, and she'd send him a warning glance, hopeful that no one else noticed him. Of course, it would just mean he was attracted to her, not that he was remembering how she looked sprawled on her bed. Either way, she was entirely certain it wasn't appropriate for him to look at her like that in the office.

And really, it wasn't all that hot in that meeting. The air conditioning was blowing, and she wasn't sitting in the sun. But her temperature was through the roof. He'd speak, and she'd feel her breathing speed up. He'd say her name, and her leg would tremble.

She was in so deep it was scary. It actually frightened her.

He tried to walk past her office to enter his own, but she grabbed his wrist, pulled him into her office and closed the door behind them.

"You're trying to kill me."

"Am not," he argued.

"Luke, this is...I can't even function around you. It's like you're..."

"Under your skin?" he asked, placing his hands on her hips. "In your head? All over you?"

"Yeah. That."

His lips found the side of her neck, and she was pulling him closer to her by his tie. She breathed out his name, but it wasn't a protest. She wasn't telling him to stop, but he had to. Just one more kiss to her skin would have him pushing her back onto her desk and pulling down her pants. They couldn't do that.

"Come over," she commanded. "Later. Whenever. Just...I need you."

"I have a dinner."

"After, then."

"You really need me, huh?" he said, smirking proudly at her as his fingertips grazed her bare hip where he'd pushed up her shirt.

"Are you saying you don't need me?" She brushed her hand against the front of his pants.

Point proven.

"It might be late," he told her.

"I don't care. Just let yourself in."

"Don't you dare leave your door unlocked." Him worrying about her was so sweet that she smiled and pecked his lips.

"I'll leave a key under the mat. I'll be in the bedroom."

He groaned. That was some kind of promise.

"You don't know what time I'll be there."

"Doesn't matter. I'll wait," she said. She moved away from him out of sheer necessity, and began gathering her things and dropping them into her bag.

"You'll wait?"

"Naked. On my bed. Coltrane in the background," she said seductively. She stood in front of him again and reached for the front of his belt, bringing his hips flush to hers. "I'll wait."

"I'm skipping dessert," he croaked out, his voice seemingly paralyzed by her proximity.

"Good call."

She walked away then, leaving him shell shocked in her office, wanting more of her. That was nothing new. He went to his own office and made a call, wondering if he could get out of that dinner. He couldn't. He'd just have to get through dinner at a five star restaurant with Nathan, his father and his grandfather. Such a dinner was always insufferable. Tonight it was going to be a fucking nightmare.

Peyton stopped for a bottle of wine on her way home, and bought some flowers at the little market near her building. She bumped into someone who lived on the same floor as her, an older woman, struggling to carry all her things the two blocks back to their building, and Peyton offered to give her a hand. Mrs. Keyes asked if there were any new men in Peyton's life - a question she asked every time they bumped into one another. Peyton blushed, and the woman smiled knowingly.

Once in her own apartment, Peyton made herself dinner and talked to Brooke for a bit, then settled herself in front of the television with a glass of wine and a few repeats of some mindless comedies. She barely caught any of the jokes. She was constantly checking the clock, and every noise from the hall was Lucas, coming to give her what she wanted; what she needed.

By 9:30, she was driving herself crazy. She'd had two glasses of wine, and that was enough. She didn't know what he considered 'late'. When she nearly jumped out of her skin, hearing someone stomping down the hall, only to walk past her door, she decided she needed a tried and true distraction.

She put on that Coltrane vinyl, just as she said she would, stripped out of her clothes, and reached for her old copy of _Catcher in the Rye_ - Lucas had told her it was one of his top ten all time favourite books. She hadn't read it in years, and she figured now was as good a time as any.

She was so lost in Holden's journey that she didn't hear the door open.

It was nearing 11:00 when Lucas finally got to her building, stepping out of the cab and tossing a $100 bill to the cabbie, not caring what the actual fare was. He strode past the doorman, saying his name as he did so, and pressed the button for the elevator. After 30 seconds of waiting, he was ready to take the stairs. What was the damn holdup? An older couple stepped off the elevator before he could get on, and he smiled politely, but rolled his eyes when their backs were turned.

When he got to her door, he pulled that key out from beneath the mat and unlocked the door, and seriously considered pocketing that key for future use. He decided that perhaps he shouldn't, and dropped it onto the counter as he took off his jacket and tie, discarding them on the floor on the way to Peyton's bedroom.

He was unbuttoning his shirt when he stepped through her door, and she startled slightly when she caught sight of the figure out of the corner of her eye.

There she was, naked on plum coloured sheets, his favourite album playing, a favourite book of his in her hands. She was his dream girl.

He dropped his shirt to the floor and set his jaw to try to gain some control over his willpower.

"You're reading _Catcher_."

"Yeah." Her breathing was already laboured, and when he pulled his white tee shirt over his head, it only sped more. "How was dinner?"

"Who fucking cares?" he asked, climbing up the bed.

He pushed her legs apart, hooked his arms beneath her thighs, and he heard her book tumble to the floor as he began working her with his tongue.

That was one hell of a greeting.

----

"Stay over," she pleaded.

Somewhere between his arrival, her second orgasm, and his haste to be inside her, they'd ended up on her bedroom floor. That was where they stayed for the rest of the evening. Well, it was already past 1:00, and he was making no moves to leave. He didn't want to, and she didn't want him to.

"Hmm."

"What is that? Are you mulling it over?"

"No. Exhausted," he managed.

He was laying on his stomach, and she was half on top of him, his arm draped over her midsection and her chest pressed against his side. Their faces were mere inches apart, and her leg was laying atop his. It was the most oddly comfortable position she'd ever lazed in. He made a good pillow.

"Really?" she asked in surprise.

"Hmm."

"Oh."

"Oh?" he inquired.

"I thought maybe you had one more in you before you pass out," she said, shooting him an amused smile when he opened one eye.

"Challenge?"

"Considering you can't say more than one word at a time, I think I win," she said with a laugh.

He quickly moved his leg so his thigh was wedged between hers, and she let out a mewl, closing her eyes at his sudden movement.

"Not so fast, sweetheart," he said gruffly, pulling her closer.

He hooked his arms around her, lifting them onto the bed, resting his weight on top of her as he kissed her heatedly. She tried to say something - something he knew damn well would be a sarcastic comment - but his mouth covered hers, and he was sliding into her before she could say a word.

----

Peyton woke in the morning, well before her alarm went off, with Lucas' hand between her legs, his blue eyes shining next to her and his lips pressing kisses to whatever bare skin he could reach.

"Luke," she breathed out.

"We have time."

"Did you..." Her words died on her tongue when he slipped a finger inside her. "Oh, God."

"Hmm?"

"Turn off the alarm?"

"Uh huh," he mumbled, kissing her neck as she spread her legs a little more. He moved so he was on top of her and his length was pressing against her. "This is a better way to wake up."

She really couldn't argue.

After they showered, Lucas experimented - rather entertainingly - with Peyton's hair products, trying to replicate his style without his own special wax, which he told her about in detail. They shared the sink, her slipping in front of him to brush her teeth and apply her makeup. He pressed himself against her as she leaned forward to apply her mascara, and her free hand clutched the counter before she told him to behave. He just shot her an innocent look in the mirror, and she glared at him.

She stepped down the hall with him following her, buttoning his shirt in the process. She laughed and looked at him over her shoulder when she saw his tie and jacket laying on the floor in the hallway, and he just shrugged his shoulder as he picked up his clothes.

She made them coffee and bagels, and they sat with her crossed legs between his at her kitchen table.

"You're going to walk in wearing the same clothes as yesterday," she pointed out.

"I have a shirt in my office."

"Really?" she asked, eyes shining in that way that let him know she was about to make a joke. "You do this kind of thing often?"

"No," he laughed. "But I've spilled coffee on myself more times than I care to admit. Started keeping a spare."

"If that's your story."

"It is."

"What about a tie?" she asked.

"I'll go open collar," he said, shrugging one shoulder.

"Well, you just have it all worked out, don't you?"

"Honestly? I wouldn't have cared if I had to stop at Barney's before work for a new suit. I was lost to rational thought after you told me you'd wait for me naked in your bed," he admitted. "Dan looked at me like I was crazy last night when he asked if we should have a brandy, and I answered before he got the words out."

"You were at dinner with Dan?"

"Dan, Nathan and Royal."

"Who's Royal?"

"My grandfather," Lucas explained. "Old money. Staunch conservative."

"Right. So if he'd known you were leaving to have premarital sex with a woman you work with, who you aren't even in a relationship with, he'd probably be less than impressed."

He didn't know what to say. She was kind of right. She was kind of wrong, though, too. Were they not in a relationship? An undefined, complicated, seriously confusing relationship, but a relationship nonetheless.

"What?" she asked.

"Are we not...something?"

"What do you...?"

"Aren't we in...I mean, some sort of a relationship?" he asked quietly.

"I didn't mean to imply...Luke, this is..."

"Complicated," he finished. "I know." He smiled at her when he saw that she'd grown tense. "How much easier were things when you hated me?"

"I still hate you," she said, smiling at the lie they both knew that was. "Why did our companies have to merge?"

"If they hadn't merged, we wouldn't have met."

"I guess."

"Look, Peyton, I like you. I enjoy your company," he said, making her smile into her coffee cup. "I'm not...I'm not looking for anyone else."

"OK," she said after a moment.

"OK? You wouldn't like to respond in kind?"

"I don't want to make those claims until I've called the other guys I'm sleeping with." His face went blank and the colour drained from his cheeks. "I'm kidding!"

"Not funny."

"It was kind of funny," she said, resting her hand on his thigh as she leaned forward to kiss him. "I just want you, Lucas."

He pulled her chair closer and kissed her in a way that left them both breathless.

She stopped for another coffee between her place and the office, insisting they don't step into the office together. She enjoyed those few minutes to herself to think over what had happened between them that morning. So they were dating. They were a couple, of sorts. He'd admitted he wasn't going to sleep with someone else, and she felt the same way.

Peyton stepped into the office, and Lucas was speaking with his assistant when she walked past him towards her door.

"Good morning, Peyton," he said with a smirk.

"It has been."

He smiled at her as she walked into her office, and he had to bite back a laugh when she closed her door behind her.

He did the very same thing moments later.


	11. Chapter 11

By late Friday afternoon, Lucas had hardly seen Peyton since the morning when she'd made that little comment and essentially slammed the door in his face. He'd known why she did it, and he understood it. He didn't think she'd avoid him like the plague - out of necessity, he was aware. He knew she was out of the office all Thursday morning checking with recordings at a studio downtown, and he knew that her Friday was a busy day as well.

But he didn't give a damn about any of that. He wanted desperately to see her.

She had her door open - uncharacteristically, of late - and it was nearing 4:00. He was walking past and he caught sight of her, sitting in her chair as she spoke on the phone. Her hair was pulled up, and she ran a hand over her face as she looked at something on her computer screen.

He knew that she wasn't impressed. He could tell. When he started listening to the conversation, his suspicions were proven correct.

"What the hell is she wearing?!...No...No, it's not acceptable...Because she's not Janis Joplin, she's a pop singer!...Get her out of that right now, and fire her stylist...No, I'm not joking...I'll have something sent over in 20 minutes...Trust me."

"It's so nice when all your anger isn't directed at me," Lucas said from the doorway once she'd hung up the phone. She hadn't even noticed him there.

"The day isn't over yet." He smirked at her, and she closed her eyes and let out a breath, letting herself smile.

"What's wrong?"

"A suede vest with fringe and a paisley top on an 18-year-old pop star," Peyton said distractedly as she dialed the phone. She smiled and held up one finger to Lucas, and he just nodded and closed the door, taking a seat across from her.

"Brooke, please. It's Peyton...Brooke! Hi. It's me. I have a crisis...Alicia's photo shoot...Thank you! She's a size two...I know. Bitch..." Lucas laughed and Peyton winked at him. "Something fun, but just a little grown up. Something that when girls see the album cover, they're going to want to wear...Thank you, Brooke. I love you!"

Lucas chuckled again and waited patiently as Peyton recited the address where the clothes needed to be sent, and she was smiling when she hung up the phone.

"Crisis averted?" he asked.

"Yeah. But now I owe Brooke, and that's never fun," she joked. "What can I do for you, Mr. Scott?"

"Come to dinner with me tonight."

"Luke, we...we can't do stuff like that," she said softly, shaking her head and avoiding eye contact.

"Yes we can," he countered. "At my place. Come over whenever."

"Lucas."

"I love that you think that I'll take no for an answer. It's cute."

"Luke..." she tried again.

"See you later. Dinner's around 8:00," he said, standing and walking back to the door. "I'll text you my address."

He'd closed the door behind him before she got the chance to ask what kind of wine she should bring.

----

Walking up to Lucas' building, Peyton felt a whole lot of nerves swirling around in her stomach, and she had absolutely no idea why. She was simply meeting a man she was seeing. She was having dinner with someone who she was growing increasingly fond of.

But this was now all on his terms. He'd initiated this meeting, when she'd essentially initiated the other two. She was going to his place for the first time, and he was cooking dinner, and he'd been insistent that she show up. They both obviously knew she would.

She'd gone to her place after leaving work, and changed into a lightweight cotton summer dress. She also grabbed a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a pair of underwear. She had no idea what this evening would entail, but she felt it safe to assume that she'd be spending the night. She didn't want to end up like he had the weekend before, lounging around half naked in his apartment. She knew he wouldn't complain if that were the case, but she still didn't want it to go that way.

She'd grabbed a bottle of red, and a bottle of white on her way to his place, and when she stepped through the door, the doorman smiled at her cordially when she told him her name. She wondered what Lucas had told the man. He gave her simple instructions to Lucas' apartment, and she stepped onto the elevator.

And as much as she wanted them to, those nerves wouldn't disappear.

She knocked on the door with as much confidence as she could, and he answered with a smile, and a dish towel draped over his shoulder. He kissed her before either of them had said a word. He kissed her like it had killed him not to be able to kiss her for days.

"You're here."

"Um...yeah," she said, smiling as she looked at him. He rolled his eyes, knowing she was biting back a sarcastic remark. She followed him inside and kicked off her shoes. "I brought wine. I didn't know what you were making, so I got a shiraz and a pinot blanc."

"OK. I'm just making a chicken cacciatore."

"Just?"

"It's easy," he said with a shrug. "Come in. Sit. I'll pour."

He was obviously at ease - it was his place, after all - and she tentatively stepped through the foyer and into his spacious apartment. Spacious was an understatement. It was beautiful and bright, with incredible hardwood floors and tasteful dark wood furniture. His walls were a dark taupe, and he had chocolate brown leather sofas and a large entertainment system.

She followed him into the kitchen, with its cherry wood cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. She watched him with a smile as he moved around, grabbing wine glasses and a corkscrew.

She perched herself on a stool at the counter across from where he was standing, and she accepted the glass of wine he handed her.

"You look great. I love that dress," he said, eyeing the blue fabric.

"Oh. Thanks."

"You OK? You seem...tense."

"Fine!" she answered quickly. "I'm fine."

"You're nervous," he said with an amused smile. "That's so sweet."

"I'm not..." He raised his brow at her and crossed his arms, and that grin stayed in place. "OK. Fine. I'm nervous."

"Well, just have some wine," he said, clinking the rim of his glass against hers.

"You're enjoying this," she stated indignantly.

"A little, yes." She let out a huff and looked away from him as she took a sip from her glass. "Peyton, relax. It's just me."

"Exactly," she muttered under her breath.

"Hmm?" he asked as he moved back to the stove, adding a splash of that red wine to the pot he had simmering.

She found him cooking to be just about the sexiest thing in the world.

"Nothing."

"Why are you nervous?" he asked, appearing in front of her, just the counter separating them.

"Because I've never been to your place, and you're cooking, and you look...amazing in that shirt," she listed off, and he smiled as he glanced down at his casual button down. "This is different than last time."

He rounded the counter and stood next to her, making her turn on her stool to face him. He draped his arm lazily over the back of the stool, rest the other on the counter, and she looked at him timidly.

"I didn't look amazing last time?"

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" he inquired delicately. She let out a quick sigh, and he did his best not to smile any bigger.

"I tried on three dresses!" she said, and he laughed. "I have my sexiest jeans in my bag, and a pair of underwear that are...I'd _never_ wear them if I wasn't with you. I'm...you make me this crazy girl, and I hate it."

"You look incredible," he assured her. "And I'm sure you looked incredible in the other two dresses, too."

"Luke, that's..."

"And I can't wait to see you in those underwear," he murmured in her ear. "I like the crazy. It's endearing."

"Endearing."

"Yes." He pulled away, kissing the tip of her nose as she smiled. "I like that I can make you a little unglued. You're always so serious at the office."

"I take my job seriously," she said, shrugging one shoulder as he strode back to the stove to tend to their dinner.

"I know. It's one of the reasons I liked you so much."

"Liked? Past tense?"

"I like you for different reasons now," he stated nonchalantly.

"Yeah? Like what?" she asked cutely, resting her chin in her hands. He threw her a glance over his shoulder, and she laughed when she saw that he had his eyebrow raised.

"Not playing this game."

"It's fun!"

"For you. Because I'll go on and on about how wonderful you are."

"It'll pay dividends. In spades," she promised. He just shook his head when she wiggled her eyebrows.

"Regardless, I'm not doing it," he said with a chuckle. "Come on. Dinner's ready."

They moved to the dining room where she saw two place settings, a few candles lit, fresh flowers on the table, and then Lucas put on a little Ella before they sat down to their meal.

"OK. I'm intimidated," she said as he dished out her food.

"Why?" he laughed.

"You did all this, and I...I don't even think I cooked a thing the entire weekend you were at my house."

"You made coffee," he said with a shrug.

"You...you did candle lit dinner," she said, looking around the room. "It's beautiful."

"It's just a meal," he pointed out. "I have a feeling you're going to be easy to please."

"Excuse me?"

"I just mean that I think you don't have such high expectations. We haven't talked about past relationships, but I'm guessing your past boyfriends were...underwhelming," he said as he took his seat.

"Kind of a quick judgment," she said with a raised brow before taking a sip of her wine.

"Am I wrong?"

No. He wasn't wrong. In fact, he was dead on. She was 29 years old, and she'd never had a man make her a candle lit dinner before. She was lucky to get flowers on her birthday, let alone anything else. Lucas was already treating her better than most of her past boyfriends. Save for her high school sweetheart - who _was_ a total sweetheart - she'd been...well, underwhelmed.

"Not exactly."

"More about that later. Eat," he insisted.

She did that very thing, and she was absolutely shocked at how delicious their meal was. When she told him that, he explained that he'd learned how to cook when he was in high school, and that cooking classes were what he and Deb bonded over as he grew up. Peyton asked if he was close with Deb, and he said that his 'step-mother' was an incredibly strong woman. He went on to tell her that until the accident, she didn't even know that Lucas existed, and that when it fell upon Dan to take Lucas in, Deb was the one who made him feel most at home.

Peyton wanted to meet the woman, but she didn't say as much.

When they'd finished their meal, Lucas cleared their plates and returned with the bottle of wine, a pint of double chocolate ice cream and two spoons.

"This is my favourite ice cream," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. He'd gotten it right, down to the brand.

"I know."

"You know? How?"

"Your best friend is my brother's girlfriend," he said slyly, grinning at her.

He handed her a spoon, and she moved her chair closer to his so they could share the dessert. She made a chorus of noises indicating how good the treat was, and he was absolutely smitten with her when she put her spoon in her mouth and closed her eyes, letting the ice cream melt on her tongue.

Sophisticated Lady came on, filling the room with Ella's smokey tone and that beautiful piano melody, and Peyton tipped her head back and smiled a smile he hadn't ever really seen before.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"This is my favourite recording of this song," she told him. "Her voice, the piano, the guitar, the violin and sax solos. I might even...I could go so far as to say as it's one of my favourite recordings...ever."

He didn't say anything. He couldn't. His mouth was dry, and he was in complete awe of her. He knew she was holding back, even, keeping those secret things she loved about the song to herself.

He took her hand in his and she locked eyes with him.

"You're going to ask me to dance, aren't you?" she asked with a smile.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Tell you to."

She shook her head, but stood and let him lead her around the floor of his dining room, candles burning, and her mind buzzing from the effects of the wine and sugar and Lucas' cologne and the feel of him against her, one hand holding hers and the other splayed across her back.

"This might be the best date I've ever been on," she said softly as he held her tight.

"You've only been here just a couple hours."

"I guess you're just that good." She smiled up at him and he kissed her gently, making her let out that content little noise he loved so much. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me for kissing you?" he asked as the song ended and he released her.

"That. This. Everything."

"No need to thank me," he insisted. "Just...keep smiling like that."

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and he could only shake his head at her. She had no idea how amazing she was. That she thought she had to thank him for something so simple as a decent dinner, told him again that she deserved - perhaps needed, even - to be treated like the incredible woman that she was. The men that came before him clearly hadn't done it.

"So, speaking of exes," he said once they were seated in his living room, drinking the last of the bottle of wine they'd opened.

"Subtle." He shrugged one shoulder. "What do you want to know?"

"No details." He shot her a deadly serious look, and she just nodded. "Last boyfriend?"

"Long distance. Producer from L.A. Not a horrible guy, but...long distance got too hard, and things started changing, and he kind of checked out of the relationship."

"I guess that's understandable."

"Yeah. Except he checked out with a nineteen-year-old actress from one of his films. _Before_ he told me we were over. So...yeah."

"Idiot," Lucas mumbled. "My last girlfriend was Andrea. She worked for Dan. That should have been a red flag."

"What happened?" Peyton asked worriedly. He kind of loved that worry.

"She was just manipulative and controlling and insane."

"You were with someone who was controlling?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Yes. Why?"

"You just always seem to be the one in control."

"That's crazy," he scoffed. "You've been bossing me around since..."

"Shut up!" she interrupted, swatting his arm. "I have not."

"Peyton, I'll pretty much do anything you tell me to."

"I don't want to be that girl."

"And that's why I'm so eager to please you," he said seriously. "You don't know how much pull you have over me."

"Hmm. How can I use this to my advantage?"

"You won't. That's why you're such a great person," he told her, and she smiled at him. She leaned over to kiss him, and he pulled her close, letting her rest against his side as his feet were propped up on his coffee table.

"Thank you."

"Stop thanking me," he insisted. "Question."

"Answer."

"How long...before me, I mean...had it been since you last..."

"Luke."

"What? I'm curious." She felt him shrug his shoulder, and she tried not to tell him to back off. She didn't want to. Just, in her experience, talking about past lovers - past recent lovers - was never a good idea.

"It wasn't Julian."

"Julian is?"

"Producer."

"Oh," he said softly. "Who, then? Or when, rather. I don't care to know who."

"A few months."

"We met two months ago."

"Yes," she said, for lack of anything else to say.

"Oh."

"Stop saying _Oh_. It's making me nervous again."

"So this person. Was he...Who?"

"You just said..."

"I changed my mind," he said. "I want to know now. I'm intrigued."

"He was...a man I used to know. He was visiting the city, and one thing led..."

"Stop. I don't want to know." She laughed and pulled away from him, and he raised an eyebrow, unsure of what was funny. "What do you mean you used to know him?"

"Luke, you need to make up your mind. If you want to know, I'll tell you the story. If not, then I won't start it."

"Tell me."

"Alright," she said. She pulled one leg up onto the sofa and tucked it beneath her, and she saw his eyes moved down to - she assumed - check to see if her dress was still covering her. She wanted to call him on it, but she knew it wasn't the time. "He is a boy - man - I knew in high school, who was always a good friend. He kind of...looked out for me. I met him through my boyfriend, and we became close."

"Oh." She glared at him, and he smiled sheepishly.

"So he came to the city from home for a weekend, and we hung out. He stayed with me."

"I don't like this story."

"You asked."

"I know. But it's not exactly a fairy tale," he muttered. She rest her hand on his cheek and he almost smiled. "So this guy - what's his name?"

"Skills. It's a nickname."

"_Skills_? Jesus. I don't want to know where that comes from."

"Lucas," she said, forcing him to look at her. "It was one time, and...I haven't really spoken to him since."

"Did you..."

"Did I what?" she asked when his voice trailed.

"Did you...Did he make you feel like I do?" he asked delicately. A smirk broke on his lips when she smiled and cocked her head. He felt the need to add; "Repeatedly?"

"Nice choice of words."

"I thought so." He looked over at her. "Well?"

"No," she answered after a moment. She wasn't sure why he wanted to know; why it made any difference at all.

"Really? Or are you just saying that?"

"Really. I get hives if I lie," she said seriously, and he smiled.

"Good to know," he said, chuckling at her honesty.

"Can we drop this now?"

"You don't want to know about my last?" he asked, raising his brow.

"No!" she answered quickly. "God, no."

"How come?"

"Because I want to think I'm the only woman you've ever touched the way you touch me," she said softly, leaning forward so their lips were just inches apart.

Well, he thought, that was a pretty fucking good answer.

"You kind of are."

"Liar," she said.

"No. It's...different with you," he said, his voice quiet as he averted her gaze. She knew he was telling the truth.

They dropped the subject of past relationships, and Peyton was kind of thankful. She didn't want to tell him she was very, very briefly engaged when she was 17 to a man who was the father of another woman's child. It was too early in their relationship for that conversation. She got the impression that he wouldn't judge her, but she didn't want to go there, anyhow.

They talked about their weeks as though they didn't work in the same office. They'd been trying quite hard to make it seem like they didn't, so other than the meeting they'd shared, and the conversation he'd walked in on that afternoon, he had no idea what had happened. She told him about a dinner she and Brooke had shared, and he told her about going to a couple games with Nathan.

"By the way, we're going tomorrow. Afternoon game," he said.

"What?" she asked, pulling away from him.

"I told you I'd take you." He shrugged his shoulder and took her empty glass from her hand, standing to take it to the kitchen. "The Rays are in town. Should be good."

"So you just assume I'm staying over and that I want to go with you?" she asked, smirking at him when he returned.

"You're the one with the jeans and sexy panties in her bag," he countered.

"Oh. Yeah. Was it wrong of me to assume I was staying over?"

"Oh, hell no," he answered. "I was just kind of hoping you'd spend a few days naked in my apartment. It's definitely your turn."

"Well, if we did that, how would you watch the game?"

"I have a television." He shrugged again, and she just laughed.

He yawned and stretched his arms over his head, and his shirt rode up. She looked at that strip of stomach, and she could have sworn it got 10 degrees warmer in his apartment.

"What's a girl got to do to get a tour of this place?" she asked, locking eyes with him.

"It ends in the bedroom."

"I was kind of hoping it'd start there."

He smiled at her and she placed her hand in his outstretched palm.

He didn't say anything more, just pulled her towards him to kiss her, then led her towards his bed, which, he'd be the first to admit, was where he'd wanted to be since she'd first walked through his door.


	12. Chapter 12

There wasn't much of a tour, but neither Lucas nor Peyton cared in the least. She'd see his apartment later. She just wanted to see him. He'd very weakly tried to stop her falling asleep by telling her she had only see half his place, but she just curled closer to him and rest her head on his chest, and then he didn't want to move at all.

When Peyton woke in the morning, Lucas' arm was draped over her stomach as he lay on his. She glanced over and smiled at how adorable he looked when he was sleeping. A little bit like a child, yet somehow maintaining all that made him irresistible.

She carefully lifted his arm and moved away from him, standing from the bed and quietly reaching for the shirt he'd worn the night before. She pulled the fabric over her shoulders, then pressed a kiss to his temple - just because she _had_ to - and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

She walked into the kitchen and started on coffee, then she decided it was time to repay him at least a little for how wonderfully he was treating her. He'd brought her breakfast in bed at her place, so she'd bring him breakfast in bed at his.

She grabbed her iPod out of her bag, tucking it into the breast pocket of the shirt she wore, and put on one of her favourite albums. She started moving around his kitchen, gathering ingredients and trying to track down everything she needed. Cracking eggs into a bowl, she started dancing a little before catching herself. She didn't need to be doing that. If Lucas walked out and saw her, she'd never live it down.

He woke to an empty bed. He hated that. She was supposed to be there with him, and he didn't like it when she wasn't. He turned onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows, looking around the room with bleary eyes for any sight of her. When he heard a noise from the kitchen he stood and stretched, then began walking towards where he knew she was.

She was standing at the stove with her back to him, and he could see that she was bobbing her head to whatever music she had playing. Her hair was pulled up, and she looked ridiculously sexy in his shirt, and whatever she was cooking smelled amazing.

He walked up behind her, tugging at her ear bud before kissing the hinge of her jaw.

"Good morning," he muttered.

"No!" she said, spinning in his arms. "You're not...You're supposed to be asleep! And then I'd come in and wake you up with breakfast, and...Dammit. It was going to be cute."

"It is cute."

"Not _as_ cute."

"I love it." He kissed her cheek. "French toast?" he asked, glancing to the skillet. "My favourite."

"Don't lie," she scolded, waving her spatula.

"I'm not!" he chuckled. "It really is my favourite."

He poured himself a cup of coffee, then hopped up onto the counter and watched while she worked. He'd never really seen her cook anything at all - as she'd pointed out the night before - but he was definitely enjoying it. Her attire and bed head weren't hurting either. His mind wandered, wondering if she was wearing anything beneath his shirt. He found himself needing to know.

He raised his foot when her back was to him, and he used his big toe to nudge the fabric of that shirt, pleased to find nothing underneath.

"Luke!" she squealed, spinning around.

"What?" he asked innocently. He started laughing and she scowled at him.

"You're such a perv."

"You're the one with the aversion to underwear, babe," he pointed out, and her cheeks coloured.

"Don't complain."

"Not complaining," he said, raising his hands in the air. "You really don't have to do this. I'm capable of making breakfast."

"Shut up. I need concentration to flip," she said, expertly turning the bread in the pan.

She reached for two plates, glaring at him when he tried to help her, and when breakfast was dished out, they sat at the counter in his kitchen, and he told her it was the best french toast he'd ever had. He promised he wasn't lying, and he kissed her with maple syrup on his lips.

"I like your place," she said after they'd finished eating. Lucas insisted they just leave the dishes in the sink, and so they were just standing and finishing the last of their coffees.

"You've hardly seen it. Unless you snooped around when I was sleeping."

"I did not!" she cried indignantly.

"Alright," he chuckled. "Come on. Tour."

"Luke, we don't have time."

"What are you talking about? It's barely 10:30," he said, furrowing his brow.

"Tour ends in the bedroom, right?" she asked seductively, pulling him close to her.

"Peyton..." He took a sharp breath, and she giggled - something that just about stopped his heart every time he heard it - and pecked his lips quickly.

"Come on. Show me around." She took their mugs and placed them in the sink, then slipped her hand into his. He didn't move when she tried to walk, and she rolled her eyes. "We won't be late for the game."

"You sure?" he inquired cheekily.

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Stop it!" she laughed. "Seriously. You're going to get us in trouble."

"With who?" he said, his voice a far higher pitch than intended. He cleared his throat as Peyton laughed. "I mean, with who?"

"Show me around this place, then we're getting dressed and going to a baseball game," she insisted sternly.

"You're a meanie."

"Meanie?"

"Would you prefer I use a harsher word?" he asked.

"Oh, shush."

He chuckled again and shook his head as he led her through his apartment. He showed her the solarium, tastefully minimalist in its decor. He showed her his two spare bedrooms, then his favourite room in the apartment, according to him. The library.

Since that day in his office, when she'd said it looked like a library, he'd been waiting and hoping that he'd get to bring her to his place and show her what his real library looked like. Sure, he had doubles of a lot of books between his two spaces, but he didn't care. He had wall to wall shelves, only breaking for the two narrow windows that overlooked the park. She looked at him with wide eyes as she let go of his hand and began walking around the room. He really did treat his books like she treated her albums. He had rare first editions, she noticed, many books on business or writing, and a complete set of encyclopedias. There were several copies of some books, different editions or cover art, and she could only smile at him. There were two large, insanely comfortable-looking leather sofas, soft lighting, and dark hardwood on the floor.

"OK. This is seriously cool," she said. "It smells...like books."

"I know," he said, smiling boyishly. "I always wanted a girl who'd lay with me on the sofa and just read." She smiled at his admission and her stomach fluttered. She'd totally do that. "The other night when I saw you reading _Catcher_...I thought...I couldn't control myself."

He was a little thankful that he'd caught himself before he told her that she might be the one for him.

"I noticed," she said softly, her cheeks pink.

He kissed her forehead and started back towards the bedroom, tugging the door to the library closed behind them. At her questioning glance, he just shrugged a shoulder and said it kept the smell of all those books in there. He proceeded to tell her the story about the fire at the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa, and how closing the doors to the library saved the room from being damaged. She looked at him like she didn't believe him, and he was pulling her back to the library. He reached for a book on great Canadian disasters, and he showed her photos and let her read for herself.

She adored that he was so intelligent. She adored that he had a book on great Canadian disasters. She adored that he'd known exactly where that book was in his library. She even adored the smug look of achievement on his face when his point was proven correct.

They made it back to his bedroom, and Lucas walked into the closet and grabbed a pair of jeans and his Yankees tee shirt. When he turned back to the room, Peyton was nowhere in sight.

"Where'd you go?" he laughed.

"Bathroom!"

"Why? You can't change in front of me?" he called as he pulled on his jeans.

She stepped out, wearing her jeans and the tank top she'd brought, and he looked her up and down as he smiled. She really did look good in anything.

"That's not it."

She tossed the shirt of his that she'd been wearing in his direction, then began making the bed, and he wasn't really satisfied with her answer. He walked up behind her, his jeans still undone and his shirt still sitting at the end of the bed. He placed his hands on her upper arms, halting her from straightening the sheets, and he pulled her towards him so her back was pressed against his chest.

"Tell me."

"You're just going to have to wait until after the game to see what I'm wearing under these jeans," she said softly, smiling to herself when she felt his heart rate increase.

"Tease," he murmured.

"You don't have on a shirt, and your pants are undone. Don't talk to me about it," she said, and he laughed as he released her.

"You realize that now all I'm going to be thinking about is what those panties look like."

"That was the idea," she said, pulling her hair into a neat ponytail.

"Colour?" he requested as they walked from the bedroom to the main part of his apartment.

"No."

"Come on. Give me something," he pleaded.

"I will," she promised, turning to him as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "Later."

He groaned and threw his head back as he opened his apartment door for her and she walked through.

He insisted they drive, and that he had VIP parking at the stadium. She asked how he managed that, and he just shrugged one shoulder like it was the simplest thing in the world to have almost a personalized space at Yankee Stadium.

They made their way to their seats, with Lucas saying hello to people he knew and explaining where Nathan was when they asked. He received a good amount of ribbing for being the second Scott brother in a week to bring a girl to the game, and Peyton smiled at the colour that put on his cheeks.

"I feel like I'm in that Drew Barrymore movie," she said as they sat down after the anthem was sung.

"What?" he laughed.

"You know. The one where she dates the guy who's a crazy Red Socks fan, and..."

"Don't say that!" he said, worriedly looking around to ensure that no one heard.

"Excuse me?"

"You can't mention...that team."

"Are you serious?" she asked incredulously.

"There are three things I don't joke about," he said, his tone serious as he locked eyes with her. "Books, basketball, and the Yankees."

"You're one of those."

"What?"

"I bet you paint your face during the playoffs, too," she said, an amused grin on her lips.

"No, I do not," he said indignantly. "I just take this seriously."

"OK," she said. She actually thought that was kind of sweet. She leaned over and kissed him before the first pitch was thrown, and he draped his arm lazily over the back of her seat.

He explained certain things to her when she asked, but he was surprised and impressed to learn that she actually knew a lot about the game. She called home runs before they flew over the fence, and he'd smile at her. He leaned over and told her it was definitely sexy that she knew her sports. When she said that she knew more about basketball than she did about baseball, he'd taken a deep breath, and she had to laugh.

She loved how enthusiastic he was. He'd pointlessly shout to the umpires, and cheer for his favourite players. He was kind of cute, sitting there in his navy blue tee shirt, his hand falling to her thigh each time he stopped clapping.

At the seventh inning stretch, Peyton did just that. She arched her back a little, and she raised her arms over her head, and that just meant that Lucas got even more of a glimpse of her tanned skin. He rest his hand on her hip and leaned down to kiss her cheek, and that look in his eyes was hard to miss.

"Luke." She whispered his name like a warning. She knew what that look meant.

"There's no way they're losing this game. We're leaving."

"We should stay." She glanced at the scoreboard a the same time he did. 8-2 Yankees.

"You're driving me insane," he said, speaking into her ear. "I need...We're going."

"What if...?"

"No arguing," he commanded seriously. He took her hand in his and was leading her toward the exit before she could tell him not to boss her around.

She kind of liked it. Just a little.

When they got back to the parking garage, without even checking to see if there was anyone around, Lucas pressed Peyton up against the side of his SUV. He kissed her hard on the mouth, and she whimpered when he palmed her breast through her tank top and arched into her.

Despite her admittedly very weak protests, he didn't stop kissing her until they heard footsteps. He gently pushed her aside so he could grab the door handle, then reached for her arm and nudged her into the vehicle. He was like a man possessed. She had a feeling that was going to be fun for her.

Neither said a word as he slid into the drivers seat and turned the key, backing out of his space.

"So that was..."

"Tip of the iceberg," he finished. He moved his right hand from the gear shift to the inside of her thigh, his fingertips grazing her through her jeans.

"Luke. Stop it," she whispered. Her voice wouldn't work. Part of her - a big part - wanted him to keep doing what he was doing. She was sure he'd have her wet and trembling in the front seat of his car as they drove back to Manhattan.

"I want you to feel what I feel," he said, his voice low and husky. She tried to push his hand away, but he just smirked and held steady. He wasn't moving it at all, instead putting just enough pressure on her to have her breath hitching. He thought maybe she was getting the idea. "You understand?"

"God, yes. Please...stop," she pleaded. He glanced over at her and saw that her head was tipped back and her eyes were closed.

Yeah, she understood.

"I could make you come right now, couldn't I?" he asked smugly.

She breathed her relief when he moved his hand back to the center console, and she punched his arm as he laughed.

"Shut up and drive."

He heard two things in those four words._ Yes, you could_, and, _Get me home. Now_.

Even if that wasn't what she meant, that was what he was choosing to hear.

They were barely through the door of his apartment when she was throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. That time, it was his back against the wall, after losing his balance when she'd so urgently kissed him.

He was pushing her towards the bedroom when she pulled his tee shirt up over his head, stopping them somewhere in the hallway to press a series of kisses to his chest and stomach. His hands tangled in her hair before she stood back up to kiss him again.

"Peyton."

"Shh."

He wanted to be in charge, and he would be. But he'd let her think she was for a little while. She'd appreciate it, and he'd probably reap the benefits. Certainly the way she was hastily unbuttoning his jeans was making him feel pretty damn amazing. He stepped out of his pants just before his bedroom door, and Peyton's lips were on his as she slipped her hand into his boxers.

He grabbed her wrist and stopped her, and she whined into his mouth. She pulled her hand out of his grasp and moved away from him, and tried to pull her own shirt over her head.

But he stopped her from doing that, too.

"Luke."

"No. I've wanted you out of these clothes since you put them on. Don't take this from me."

She smiled and her heart raced as he placed one hand on her shoulder and pushed her back so she was sitting on the bed. He made every single thing sexy. Normally she hated that - that forceful demanding side of a man. With Lucas, it made her eyes darken and her temperature spike. He just desired her that much. It wasn't about gaining the upper hand or showing her who was in charge. Lucas just wanted to be her man, or at least that was the impression she got.

She moved so she was laying back on the pillows, and Lucas' hands found the bottom of her tank top. He pushed the fabric up, but didn't take it off, and placed feather-light kisses to her stomach, stopping when he reached the top of her jeans. He moved back up so his lips were just out of reach of hers, and when she tried to lean up to kiss him, he pulled away a little more, repeating that trick until he crashed his lips to hers, resting his weight against her.

He slid his hand beneath her tank top, and she gasped when his thumb flitted over her nipple. She breathed out his name as he kissed her neck, and he pushed her shirt up the rest of the way, making her sit up so he could pull it over her head. She tried to pull him back to her to kiss him again, but he began kissing his way down her body. He gently nipped the flesh of her breast as his hand pressed against her through her jeans again, and she arched herself against him as she let out a heavy breath.

He moved so he was laying on his side next to her, and his calloused hand ran over the smooth skin of her stomach before finding the button of her jeans.

"This," he said, looking at her flushed face, "is what has had me going crazy."

"Predictable."

"Maybe so," he said, sliding down her zipper. He wasn't even looking down, instead choosing to gaze into her eyes. "Wondering what you had under these jeans had me hard all day."

He slipped his hand into her jeans, only to find a thin layer of lace there, and when he moved so he was hovering over her legs, he finally got an answer to one of the questions that had been plaguing him all day. He hooked his fingers through her belt loops and pulled her jeans down over her hips.

"Mmm. Black," he said with a smirk.

"Is that alright with you?" she asked teasingly.

"Anything would have been." She laughed and ran her hands through his hair. "They aren't staying on anyway."

Once he'd pulled her jeans down off her legs and tossed them aside, he took a moment to look at her, chest heaving and wearing only a pair of black lace panties.

"Beautiful," he whispered. She felt herself get hotter beneath his gaze. Just the way he looked at her sometimes was enough to make her crazy.

"Luke, do something. Please."

He smiled as he kissed her through her panties, up her stomach again, finally meeting her lips with fervor. He dipped his hand beneath the fabric, and he groaned to find her already wet and ready for him. She mewled when his index finger moved back and forth over her most sensitive spot a few times, then she was reaching down and cupping him through his boxers, making him hiss her name. She pushed down the waistband of his shorts as far as she could, and he did the rest. Her eyes darkened and she bit her bottom lip when she saw him, and he looked up at her as he pulled down that black fabric torturously slowly; so slowly that it had her muttering his name paired with a curse word.

She spread her legs as he moved up her body again, and when he palmed her breast and kissed her, she whined into his mouth. God, he loved to get her all worked up like that.

It really was different with her.

"Peyton, I want..." His words were cut off when she shifted her hips against him.

"What do you want?" she asked breathlessly.

He pushed himself into her, and she let out an unbridled moan. She had her answer. He felt her grind her hips beneath him, encouraging him to start moving, and he couldn't hold out any longer anyway. He pulled out completely before entering her again, and her nails raked across his lower back, not expecting his action.

He thrust into her slowly at first, until she was begging him with words and with her own movements to move faster. He spread her legs wider, and he actually saw her smile, thankful that he was taking charge of exactly what he wanted. She really was lost to the world. As she'd explained to him, sex with him always felt pretty fucking good, so he could do almost whatever he wanted and she'd be game.

And what man doesn't want to hear that?

She trailed her hand down his arm, from his shoulder to his hand, and he intertwined their fingers, raising them above her head, and making her close her eyes. He kissed the hollow of her throat when she tipped her head back, and she moaned again when his lips found her pulse point.

"Luke, baby, deeper," she breathed out. "I need you deeper."

He turned her body in such a way that had him pushing into her as far as he could, and she very nearly screamed his name. When she told him she was close, he pulled back a bit, hoping to bring her down a little, but when she pulled him into a searing kiss, letting her tongue battle with his fiercely, he was thrusting into her hard again, and he was right there at the edge with her.

"Peyton."

"Oh, God..."

She clutched his bicep, and he watched as her lips parted a bit and her eyelids fluttered. His name spilled from her lips, and her muscles tightened around him. He was impressed that she could even speak - he wasn't sure he'd ever seen such an intense orgasm - when she pleaded with him to come for her. If he hadn't been ready then, that phrase certainly would have gotten him there.

He dropped his head to her shoulder and he whispered her name as he let go, and his own release was only intensified when it sent her into another one.

Her hands found his back once he was laying still atop her. She stroked his bare skin as they attempted to steady their breathing and regain some sort of control over their bodies.

When his eyes met hers again, he saw the contented look on her face, and she lay her head back on the pillow. He kissed her gently, her lips moving with his as he brushed the hair from her sweat-dampened forehead.

"Best...ever," she said between kisses.

Then he was hard inside her again, and maneuvering them so she was on top. She could only smile at him as she leaned down, letting him moan at the movement before she pressed her lips to his.

So he missed two innings of a baseball game.

Well worth it. Very well worth it.


	13. Chapter 13

Just after dinner - they'd ordered in, eaten Chinese in Lucas' bed - Peyton stood and began gathering her things, dropping them into her bag. She slipped that dress back over her head before Lucas could wipe the disappointed look off his face. He didn't like that. She shouldn't be putting more clothes on. She definitely shouldn't be making it look like she was about to leave.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" he asked, almost pouting.

"I have to go. I thought I told you that," she said, sitting at the edge of the bed. She brushed her fingers through his hair, and he gave a wan smile.

He vaguely remembered her saying something about not being able to stay over, but he was almost certain she was laying beneath him when she said it. Probably why he didn't remember.

"Why?"

"I leave for L.A. on Monday. I haven't packed a thing."

"L.A.? How long?" he asked quickly.

"Till Friday. You knew that," she said, shaking her head at him. They'd discussed it in that meeting the other day.

"A week? Without you?"

"Luke, you make it sound like a death sentence," she laughed.

"It might be!" he cried boyishly. "What am I...Who am I supposed to leer at in the office? Who's going to tell me they hate me?"

"I'm sure there are plenty of people waiting in line," she teased, and he glared at her playfully. "It's only five days. I'm sure you'll survive."

"This sucks. I want...I don't want you to go," he said, sitting up and taking her hand in his.

"Lucas, honey." He smiled. That was a new little name she'd never really used before. "I'm sorry. I've got to go home and pack. As much as I'd love to stay here and lounge around in your bed, I can't."

"How long can it honestly take you to pack?"

"I don't know. A couple hours at most," she admitted. She stood, but he reached for her arm, pulling her towards him and making her sit again. "You're making this difficult."

"Too bad," he said firmly. "Stay."

"I can't," she said again. "God, you're...you're so bad for me."

"What? Why?" he asked with a smirk.

"Because you make me want to just blow everything else off and..."

"Blow me off?" he suggested cheekily.

"OK. I take it back."

"Sorry. I just...Sorry." He rest his palm on her cheek and she closed her eyes. "Stay. Until tomorrow. I'll drive you home in the afternoon."

"Luke..."

"See, again, you think that I'll let you say no," he said, smirking at her as she rolled her eyes.

"So you're saying that you're keeping me hostage?" She climbed into his lap, and he rest both hands on her thighs. "And if I try to leave, you're just not going to let me?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"Well, if there's no chance of me getting out of here, I guess I just shouldn't bother," she said as she pushed him onto his back.

"I'm _so_ glad you understand." She kissed him, but she pulled away all too quickly. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You're...what?" he repeated.

"You think that just because I'm not stripping down again, something's wrong?" she asked, swatting his hands away from her hips. She was smiling, so he assumed he wasn't in trouble.

"Well...you usually do strip down when I'm around, so..." She hit his chest with the palm of her hand. "Ow! Stop hitting me!"

"Stop being a pervert."

"OK, I don't think that's an appropriate word."

"Whatever. Let's do something," she said, climbing off him. Her dress flew up a bit, and he smirked as he noticed. She rolled her eyes and he shrugged one shoulder.

"What do you want to do?" He stood from the bed and followed her out of the room, and his heart actually raced a little bit when she pushed open the door to his library.

"I want to lay with you on the sofa and read," she said, locking eyes with him. He let out a quick breath and kissed her.

He was almost certain she was perfect.

So they did that very thing. She started a book he insisted she'd love, and he reached for the one he'd been reading where it sat on the table next to the couch. She settled onto one end of the sofa, and he settled onto the other, and he idly rubbed her feet as he read.

She noticed a few things. She was comfortable. Just content. The book he'd chosen for her, she already loved, and the room was quiet save for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Lucas' fingertips moved over her bare skin, and she kind of felt...Something. She didn't know how to describe it, so she didn't bother trying; to herself or to him.

She found herself watching his face as he read. He knit his brow just a little bit, and there was the smallest of smiles on his lips. He'd let out a soft laugh and particularly clever passages, and she could tell he was just itching to read things aloud to her, but he didn't, not that she would have complained. He looked kind of peaceful. Almost childlike.

"What?" he asked when he noticed her staring. He hadn't taken his eyes off his page, but his smirk had grown.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I am not. I'm just...you look cute when you read," she admitted. He lowered his book and smiled at her. She rolled her eyes. "What?"

"That was just a sweet thing to say."

"I don't say sweet things?" she asked, closing her book on her lap.

"No. You say sexy things," he told her. "Or funny things. Or...I dunno. Just not sweet."

"Oh. Well...sorry?"

He laughed and set his book on the table, then took hers from her lap and did the same before moving so he was resting on top of her. They'd only read for an hour, but he thought that was enough. She hadn't bugged him the way women tended to do. They'd get bored, or they wouldn't sit with him at all. They'd walk into the room and insist they needed to be entertained.

Peyton was not most women, and he hadn't needed that hour of silent reading to realize it.

"You're very sweet," he said softly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For doing this. For staying." He kissed her gently. "For being nervous around me, and making breakfast and coming to the game. And coming _after_ the game."

"You know, for a second there, something between us wasn't about sex," she said, raising her eyebrow.

"We aren't just about sex." His brow furrowed as he looked down at her. He almost looked offended.

"We kind of have been. At least a little bit. I mean...sure, we had that conversation about 'us' the other day, but..." She was rambling. She only rambled when she was nervous. He was smiling at her again. "I don't know, Luke."

"Well...is that all you want it to be?" he asked, avoiding eye contact. She sensed a little bit of hurt in his voice, and she kind of hated that.

"No. I...I don't know."

"You don't know."

"I...if you'd asked me a week ago, I probably would have said yes," she admitted, and he nodded knowingly. "But the more I get to know you, the more I...It's not just sex, is it?"

"No," he whispered. "It's not."

"I still don't know what it is though," she said softly.

"That's OK," he reassured her, a smile on his lips. "You don't have to. We'll just play it by ear."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He kissed her softly. He loved that she'd brought that conversation up. Well, it was kind of mutual, but he thought that was maybe kind of healthy.

And he was definitely glad she'd admitted that it wasn't just physical. He'd suspected as much, but the confirmation was nice to hear. He felt for her. He felt a lot for her. He felt more for her with every passing hour that they spent together. He hadn't lied when he told Nathan he was falling for her.

He was falling hard.

They didn't sleep together that night. They watched Roman Holiday on some movie channel, and they cuddled together in his king size bed. He turned out the lights and kissed her forehead, and she smiled in the darkness. He fell asleep before her, but the soothing beat of his heart beneath her cheek lulled her to sleep soon after.

Definitely not just sex, she thought.

----

Lucas lay on Peyton's bed, distractedly flipping through an old issue of Rolling Stone while Peyton dropped things into her suitcase. She had Kings of Leon playing in the background, and every once in a while, he'd see her mouthing the words, and he'd smile. She saw him looking once and she blushed, but he just winked at her.

He watched her place his favourite skirt and top of hers into her suitcase, and he looked at her with a furrowed brow. She kissed him quickly, and he stared at her as she walked away. She really was beautiful. Stunningly so.

"So what's this trip for?"

"Were you paying any attention at all the other day?" she asked with a laugh. "You were in the meeting!"

"So you say. All I remember is sitting across from you in the boardroom and looking down your top."

"Lucas!"

"Whatever. You knew I was doing it," he said, waving his hand in the air. She rolled her eyes at him and he laughed. "So really. What's all this about?"

"There are two acts out there that I've had my eye on for a while. This band called Just Listen is putting on a showcase on Tuesday, and then this singer/songwriter, Jesse Belleview. God, he's so amazing. He's just soulful, and mellow, and..." She noticed he was laying back on the bed with his hand behind his head, grinning at her. "What?"

"I like listening to you talk about music. You're...you have this _passion_," he said, shaking his head in wonder. "It's kind of amazing."

She looked at him for a moment, and she was seriously wondering where he'd been all her life. She'd been waiting for a man who wasn't intimidated by her success and that passion he was speaking of. She'd realized years earlier that she'd never love anyone as much as she loved music, and most men couldn't handle that. Lucas seemingly could. Not that she was in love with him.

But if ever she were to fall...

"Take your shirt off," she demanded. He grinned wolfishly.

"If you tell me to do that every time I say something even remotely nice, I am _really_ going to enjoy this relationship," he said. She leered at him and put her hands on her hips.

"Are you not enjoying it so far?" she challenged.

"Well, yes, but..."

"If you'd like to keep enjoying it, take your shirt off."

"OK, but..." She raised her brow, and he shook his head as he began unbuttoning the white shirt he was wearing. "Never mind."

"Thought so," she said softly, turning back to her task.

"What's...don't get me half-naked then not come over here," he pleaded.

She smiled and took the shirt from him, folding it and dropping it into her suitcase.

"It's coming with me. I need something to sleep in," she said, smiling at him.

"That's..._so_ hot," he breathed out. "I wish _I_ could come with you."

"I really think you'll be OK here."

"I guess. I mean, now I won't have the distraction at the office, at least," he pointed out, making her laugh.

"Way to focus on the positives, babe," she called from the bathroom where she was gathering her makeup and toiletries.

He sat there - shirtless and wondering what he was going to wear home - and thinking how much he really enjoyed those little pet names.

But then he had to ask a question that he didn't want to ask. He didn't want to be that guy. He wanted to just trust her and not worry about it, but...well, their relationship - whatever it was - was young and a little fragile, surrounded by a huge grey area, and he needed to know.

"Are you going to see anyone while you're there?" he asked timidly.

"Unless everyone in L.A. takes off for the week..."

"I'm serious!" he laughed.

"What do you mean?" she asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

"I mean friends, or...I dunno...Family?" He shrugged one shoulder and looked down at her linens instead of at her. "Or movie producer ex-boyfriends."

"Are you seriously asking me this?"

"Don't get mad. I'm just wondering."

"I'm not mad, I'm...indignant," she said.

"Don't use amazing words right now. I need an answer, and..."

"Really? _Words_ turn you on?" she asked, smiling at him.

If nothing else, he thought that question was proof she wasn't _really_ mad.

"Indignant is one of my favourite words," he said with a shrug, and she laughed. "Right up there with ubiquitous, aplomb and mellifluous. And compassion."

"Compassion?"

"_Great_ word," he insisted, nodding appreciatively.

"Hmm."

"You're dodging the question."

"It's a ridiculous question."

She went back to packing her things, and he just looked at her for a moment. He didn't hear a no. He wanted to hear a no. He assumed that her insistence that it was a silly worry meant that he really had no reason to worry. But he needed a confirmation.

"Answer me," he demanded gently.

"Lucas, please. Do you not remember the story about that relationship? It's not like I want to meet up with him to chat over coffee," she said, turning to face him. "And quite frankly, I'm a little insulted that you think I would."

"It's not unheard of for people to stay friends with their exes," he pointed out.

"I don't do that."

"Ever?"

"No," she insisted. She still had her hands on her hips, and he didn't really like the defensive stance she'd taken. He'd seen her do it in the office when she was hell bent on proving her point and didn't like that she was getting resistance.

"Why?"

"Because I think it's weird when people stay friends with their exes. It never works out. There are always lingering feelings - loving or otherwise - and those feelings turn into tension, and that tension either leads to sex, or a huge fight."

"Have you had sex with an ex before?" he asked curiously.

"I'm not answering that."

"Come on. This is an interesting conversation. I want to know how you came up with that theory."

"My high school boyfriend. We...tried to stay friends. It didn't work."

"You slept with him."

"We didn't fight," she muttered. She tried to read the look on his face, but she couldn't. "It was years and years ago."

"What was he like?" he inquired.

"No. Not doing this. I've told you far too much already," she said, and he laughed. "Are you friends with any of your exes?"

"No."

"How come?"

"I just always cut ties. Dead weight, you know?" he said, shrugging one shoulder as though that wasn't a horrible way to word it.

"Charming," she mumbled.

"Would you rather I was friends with them?" He had his brow raised, and a smirk on his lips, and she just narrowed her eyes at him before walking to her dresser. "Can you please show me which underwear you're taking?"

"God! You're seriously like a 17 year old boy!" she laughed, walking back over to him.

"That's what makes me irresistible to you, and you know it."

"That's so not true," she mumbled, and he looked at her expectantly.

"What does?"

"I'm not telling you," she said, laughing at him. They shared a smile over their similar conversation in his kitchen just days earlier.

"Fine. But I wasn't joking about the underwear thing."

"I didn't suspect you were," she admitted. "But I'm not going to play into your boyish imagination."

"No, no. You see, my reason for wanting to know is two-fold," he explained. "One, I get to see your underwear, then when I call for phone sex, it's a better picture." Her jaw dropped, but he pressed on. "And two, it just gives me piece of mind that you're actually _wearing_ underwear."

"First of all, phone sex is _very_ unlikely," she insisted, her tone dead serious. "And second of all, just because I take the underwear with me, doesn't mean I'll wear them." His complexion paled and she walked over, placing her palm on his cheek. "But I will. Except when I meet up with Julian."

"OK, that's not funny," he said, his jaw set.

"Joke."

"_Not_ funny." He tugged her wrist and pulled her onto the bed with him. "I think I'm really going to miss you."

"You think you are?" she asked, her hand running over his stomach.

"I am."

She was really going to miss him too. A lot.

----

Her first night in L.A., she pulled his shirt out of her bag and buttoned the fabric, smiling as she inhaled the scent of that cologne he always wore. She loved that cologne. It was a little different when she wasn't pressed against his chest, but it was close enough to make her think of him. More.

It had been on her clothes all day. She assumed that all her clothes took on that scent from that shirt of his being folded in the center of her suitcase, but it had driven her insane. All she could think about was him, and it had taken four times the concentration to get through her meetings. She didn't need that. She really didn't need the text he'd sent her, insisting that she let him know she got in OK. When she'd replied, all he wrote back was_ 'Miss you'_.

By the second night, she couldn't take it anymore. She was wearing that shirt, laying on her hotel bed and trying to get to sleep, and she didn't care that it was after 2:00 a.m. in New York. She needed to talk to him. She kind of hated that she did.

"Hello?" came his sleepy voice.

"Hi."

"It's you," he said. She could hear the contentment in his tone, and she closed her eyes and smiled. "Hi."

"I miss you." It was almost a whisper, and he loved those three words.

"What are you wearing?" he asked. He assumed she'd hear in that question that he missed her, too.

She almost laughed. She would have.

Except that was the very reason she'd called.

"Nothing but your shirt."

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about her almost constantly since leaving her place that Sunday evening. She was impossible not to think about. It was almost harder at the office. He hated knowing that she wasn't just behind the door of the office next to him. He hated that he couldn't just walk in and demand they get together in the evening.

He was absolutely miserable without her there, and he'd never been that guy. He'd never been the guy to _need_ the girl. He'd never been in a relationship where the woman wasn't more invested than him. He was now. He could tell he felt more than her, and she needed to catch up to him.

A 2:00 a.m. phone call was a step in the right direction.

He didn't mention how adamant she'd been that they wouldn't be having phone sex.

He just started talking.


	14. Chapter 14

Peyton wanted to take Lucas up on his offer to pick her up from the airport. She really wanted to. A few phone calls and a couple text messages simply weren't enough of him, and she needed more. But she'd already arranged for Brooke to come get her in the limo, then they were going to order pizza and drink wine, just like they always did when one of them returned from a trip. She had heard Lucas pout into the phone when she told him that, but he understood. He told her to have a fun evening with Brooke, but that he was coming over the next day, and she had better be ready for him.

She didn't really have to question what that meant.

"P. Sawyer!" Brooke cried when Peyton climbed in the back of the limo. "God, you look amazing! Are you sure you just flew across the country?"

"I feel like I've been traveling for three days," Peyton said, tipping her head back against the seat. "But thank you."

"Your cheeks are pink. Your skin is all glowy. You're...You're _smiling_," Brooke said happily.

"Don't make this about Lucas."

"I didn't," Brooke said with her brow kinked. "_You_ just did."

"Whatever. I need food. Can we wait until we get to my apartment before we start talking about all that?"

"Fine," Brooke pouted. "Talk my ear off about your work trip and all those things I don't really care about. As soon as we're through the door, I want to talk about Lucas."

And that was pretty much exactly the way they spent their evening. Peyton played the demo of the singer/songwriter she'd signed during her trip, and the band that was coming to New York in two weeks' time to talk contracts and get a feel for the label before they signed anything.

And when they were sitting on Peyton's sofa, she dished about Lucas. Brooke squealed with glee when Peyton recalled a few details of the last couple days she spent with Lucas, and how they seemed to be getting closer and closer to having a 'real' relationship.

"Honey, it already _is_ a real relationship," Brooke said, smiling almost sympathetically.

"Maybe."

"It is. He took you to a ball game. You've just spent an hour and a half talking about him. And according to Nathan, Lucas has spent about the last, oh, _five days_ talking about you."

"Really?" Peyton asked softly. Her heart fluttered a little in her chest upon hearing that.

"Peyton, that guy is crazy about you," Brooke insisted.

Though she didn't say as much, but Brooke knew that Peyton was crazy about Lucas, too.

----

Peyton was sleeping peacefully after a long week away, a long flight, and a long night of talking with her best friend. And at least one too many glasses of wine.

Hearing someone knocking at her door at 8:00 in the morning was a rude awakening, to say the least. And on a Saturday, no less.

She stomped through her apartment in just her underwear and that shirt of Lucas' that she'd had laundered before she left L.A., though she hated that his cologne was gone. She mumbled a few - OK, several - choice words as she made her way to the door. She didn't even check to see who was there before pulling the door open harshly.

"What?!" she said tiredly. Or angrily. Somehow both. "Oh. Luke. Hi."

"I thought you'd be more enthusiastic."

"I thought you'd let me sleep," she mumbled. She turned sideways to let him walk through the door, but he kissed her before he walked past. He noticed that she didn't complain.

"I missed you. A lot." His forehead was resting against hers, and she almost forgave him for waking her.

"I missed you, too," she said quietly.

"I woke you."

"It's 8:00."

"But..._damn_ do you look good," he said, eyeing her as she closed the door and locked it. His shirt, bed head, no makeup...Perfect.

"Flattery will get you nowhere." She smiled when he pulled her against him and into a tight embrace. OK, that kind of a hug would get him somewhere. She'd had dreams about those hugs. "You're coming to bed with me."

"You're damn right I am," he said gruffly.

"I need at least a few more hours of sleep. Take off your pants and lay down with me."

"Bossy. I like it."

He followed her down the hall and did as he was told. He had yet to mention that she was wearing his shirt, and she was obviously so tired that he thought better than talking anymore. She was already laying down on her side when he pulled back the covers, and, in just his boxers, lay down and pulled her back to his chest.

She made that little sound she always made when she was happy, and he kissed her bare shoulder as he held her tight. All she could think, as she let herself relax against him, was that it was really good to be back in New York.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"You said that."

"I know. It's just...true."

"OK," he said softly, pulling her a little closer.

He didn't think he'd fall asleep. He'd been up for a couple hours. He'd gone to the gym, had a quick breakfast and a coffee, and driven over to Peyton's place. He'd heard from Nathan that morning that Brooke hadn't left Peyton's until after midnight. He should have known that Peyton would need - or even just want - to sleep in late. Perhaps he should have waited. But she was currently sleeping in his arms, and he decided that showing up early had been a brilliant choice.

His week had been as close to miserable as he'd been in a long time. He hated every second. He'd hear that song he knew was one of her favourites, and his mind would race. He could recall the exact moment she told him. He heard Mia talking on the phone with Peyton, and he wondered how inappropriate it'd be to ask the girl to transfer the call to him. Every single thing reminded him of her, and it was torture.

He was head over heels for a girl he was absolutely certain he wasn't getting to know quickly enough.

They slept until nearly noon, and when Peyton woke with Lucas' arms securely around her, she closed her eyes and seriously thought of going back to sleep. Moments later, she felt him tense a little, then stretch, then kiss her shoulder again.

"Thank you," she said. He just chuckled softly and pulled her closer. "What?"

"You think you need to thank me for being close to you."

She hummed in contentment and turned in his arms, tangling herself in his limbs. She was pretty close to telling him that she missed him again, but she figured twice was enough. She had no idea what to say to him to express just how good it was to be with him again, so she didn't say anything.

"Wow. It's noon," he told her. "How are you feeling?"

"So much better now."

"I'm going to let myself believe that I have something to do with that."

"I think you have everything to do with it," she said softly. "This week...I mean, it was good, but...It sucked."

"I know. You were...everywhere. I think I drove Nathan half crazy talking about you."

"Yeah," she said with a smile, looking up at him. "I may have heard something about that."

"I knew he'd tell on me," he mumbled.

"It's sweet."

"How was L.A. though?" he asked. She knew he was just trying to change the subject and take the focus off himself.

"We talked," she pointed out, as though he should already know the answer to his question.

"Not about anything other than what I wanted to do to you."

"Lucas," she hissed.

"Oh, don't be coy."

"I'm not. First rule of phone sex is that you never talk about it face to face."

"Says who?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Me."

"Oh. Well...I can't really argue that, can I?"

"No. You can't. Or when you go to Chicago in October, there'll be none of it."

As soon as she said the words, she was dreading that trip, and it was over a month away. A lot can happen in a month. They may not even be together by then. But, for the first time in a long time, the thought of not being with someone put a bit of an ache in her heart.

"That's what you said this time, too, and look how that turned out," he said smugly. She moved away from him and looked at him with her eyes narrowed.

"Let me ask you, Lucas. Do you _like_ not having sex?"

He pulled her back towards him and she giggled before he kissed her. He knew he wouldn't be going without for too long. The way her body pressed against his as he kissed her, and the way she nibbled his bottom lip just a little bit, and the way she sighed just after they'd parted let him know that she had definitely missed sharing her bed with him.

"Come on. I'll make some food," she said, pulling away from him and standing from the bed.

"No way." He pulled her back towards him and she landed in his lap. "You're not leaving me."

"I wasn't _leaving_ you," she said, grinning at him.

"I laid in bed for hours doing what you wanted to do. Now you're going to lay in bed with me and do what I want to do," he said, kissing her neck and pushing up the shirt she was wearing.

"Luke, baby, it's what I want to do, too."

----

She told him she had a dream that involved the two of them in her shower, and he'd scoffed and said that she was making it up. She asked if it mattered. He had the water running before she was even out of bed. After, he stepped back into his jeans and the shirt he'd worn, and Peyton pulled on a pair of jeans and a simple black tee shirt.

They ordered Chinese - he insisted he might never be able to eat Chinese without her again, since she always made it taste better - and sat in Peyton's kitchen with the demo of the artist she'd signed on her trip playing.

"So tell me what happened when I was gone."

"Nothing, really. Just launched David's fifth novel. The party was so boring I was home by 10:00. I had to fire Alexandra."

"What? Why?" she asked. Alexandra was one of the company's junior editors. She was a great girl with a fantastic personality.

"Because she couldn't get pages out of her author after three weeks. I can't have an editor who isn't willing to get tough. She was just too nice," he explained.

"Luke, that sucks." She placed her hand on his forearm. Everyone liked Alexandra. Lucas included, which was a little surprising.

"I asked her if she wanted to stay on and work on the magazine, but she said she'd rather try to find another editor's job," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"What else?" she asked after a moment.

"I felt bad for Mia. You're a popular girl, Peyton," he said, pointing at her with his chopsticks.

"She was busy, huh," Peyton said, the guilt written on her face.

"Yeah. I brought her lunch on Thursday."

"What?" she asked in shock. "You did?"

"She had to work through her lunch. She was buried in phone calls and paperwork. I was going out anyway, so..."

"That's so nice of you," she said, a smile on her lips. "I can't believe you did that."

"Is it that inconceivable that I'd be nice to someone?" he asked with a chuckle.

"No! It's just that you didn't have to do that. You really didn't. I'm...It's very sweet."

"She appreciated it," he said, brushing off her flattery. She leaned across the table to kiss him, taking him by surprise.

He just smiled at her, and they idly chatted a little more about work and her trip and the goings on at the office. Apparently, Steve had kept forgetting that Peyton was away, and would walk to her office at least once a day to talk to her. He'd made a comment about the company not being right without her. Lucas told her he was pretty sure she had job security. She told him she'd been busting her ass for 10 years to get those kind of comments.

"Come on. No more work stuff. What'd _you_ do?" she pleaded after they'd finished eating. "I want to hear about you."

"Nothing really. Watched the rest of the Rays series with Nathan," he said nonchalantly. "My personal shopper got me a new Armani."

"Show off."

"Hey. I've gotta look good," he said, and she rolled her eyes. She wanted to tell him he didn't need an expensive suit to look good. In fact, his worn jeans and plain blue tee shirt were looking pretty damn amazing. "And as if you don't love labels."

"I have a friend in the industry who gets me deals."

"Show off," he mocked her.

"Come on! Your life has to be more exciting than baseball and a new suit."

"Why do you want to know about me all of a sudden? I'm boring. I read books and drink scotch. I basically sat around my apartment and thought about this girl I'm sort of seeing," he told her.

"Oh yeah? What's _she_ like?" She rest her chin on her palm and he just shook his head.

"No matter how many times we have this conversation, I'm not going to list off all the things I like about you," he insisted.

"Fine. Save it for when you piss me off and need to woo me," she said, sitting back in her chair.

"No. That's what jewelry is for."

"Some women don't like jewelry."

"I've never met a woman who didn't like jewelry. And Deb always said, _'when all else fails - tennis bracelet'_," he said with a grin, and Peyton just shook her head. "Oh. Dan and Deb are going to Vancouver. I guess that's...almost exciting."

"Vancouver?"

"Yeah. It's beautiful. Have you ever been?" he asked.

"Yes. Once."

"Really? How come we aren't having a conversation about our favourite things in that city. That's what people do when they find out they've traveled to the same place," he surveyed.

"It's a memory best forgotten," she said vaguely.

"Why's that?"

"Because...I went with someone, and...You don't want to hear the details," she said, locking eyes with him. "Trust me."

"Who?"

"Lucas..."

"Tell me who, Peyton. it's not a big deal."

"Julian. I went with Julian. He was filming a movie there, and I went with him," she said finally.

He felt he'd pushed her. But he knew something happened in Vancouver between she and her ex, and he kind of wanted to know what it was.

"Oh."

"Yeah. So...That's that."

"What happened?" he asked. She looked at him and shook her head, but he wasn't having that. "I want the details. I can handle it."

She heaved a sigh and tipped her head back, and when she looked back at him, he was still waiting for her response. She couldn't keep it from him.

"He had a ring in his bag," she told him. "I made a pre-emptive strike after I found it. I...I slipped into a conversation that I wasn't sure when I'd be ready for marriage. That was the beginning of the end."

"Why weren't you ready?" he asked. "For marriage, I mean."

"Because when I saw that ring, I couldn't even picture it on my finger. And because I wasn't willing to leave New York, and because I wasn't ready to have a baby right away like he wanted."

"Oh."

"You need to stop with the _'Oh'_, Lucas. Of all the things you do, that's the one that drives me most crazy," she said. He knew she was trying to make a joke and break the tension, but it just wasn't that easily broken.

And that was for a few reasons. She could have a child with another man. She could have. Julian could have asked, and she could have said yes. She could have moved to L.A. How different would things be if he hadn't met her? If she hadn't been available when he met her? Would they still have had that flirtation? That energy between them? He didn't really want to think about it, but he couldn't stop thinking about it, either.

"OK, what?" she asked once she saw that he was completely distracted by something or another.

"Sorry. I'm just...you could have been engaged. Married, even. We may never have met."

Dammit. She needed to tell him about Jake. Even though it was 10 years ago and the engagement lasted all of two days, she had to tell him. She knew that if she didn't take that opportunity, when it finally came out, he'd be hurt that she hadn't told him sooner.

"Actually, I have been engaged," she said quietly.

"What!?"

"Don't freak out. High school boyfriend. Proposed right after graduation. We broke up days later," she explained. She rest her hand on his, and breathed a sigh of relief when he wove his fingers through hers. "I just...wanted to tell you."

"He's the one you had breakup sex with."

"It wasn't breakup sex. It was..._post_ breakup sex." She wasn't sure that was important, but it felt like it was. "And it was 10 years ago."

"Doesn't matter. What were the lingering feelings?" he asked. She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "Your words, Peyton. Lingering feelings."

"They were on his part. I was...it was right before I moved, and he was lonely because his daughter was..."

"His daughter," he stated incredulously.

"OK. This...this conversation isn't going well."

"What was your first clue?" he asked.

"Don't...Don't judge me, Lucas. You aren't allowed."

"I'm not _allowed_?" He stood from his place and began pacing, just to put space between them. "I guess as the guy you've been...whatever with...for a couple weeks, my need for all this information is limited."

She didn't like the tone or the sarcasm, or the way he was looking at her like she'd let him in on the worst news he'd ever heard. She knew it probably wasn't hard to hear, but him getting all angry and stone-faced about it wasn't going to help.

"That's right, Lucas. _Weeks_. It's not like we've been together for ages, and you're just hearing about it. You think it's easy for me to talk about this stuff? God. You think that maybe you could be a _little_ open-minded and realize that it's not about _you_?"

He stopped pacing and rest his hands on the back of the chair he'd been sitting on. He dropped his head and closed his eyes. She was right. He hated that. He wanted to be angry, but he quickly realized that he didn't really have a right to be.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "You're right. You're being honest, and I'm being..."

"A dick? Yeah," she said, locking eyes with him. They both let themselves smile weakly, and he sighed before sitting down again.

"Tell me the whole story," he said calmly.

So she told him the whole story. How she and Jake went to school together, and they started dating during their junior year. It wasn't until after they'd gotten together that his ex came back into the picture. And she was seven months pregnant at the time. Jake was insistent that he didn't want to be with Nikki, but that he wouldn't abandon his child - and a paternity test proved that it was his child. Jenny was born and Nikki disappeared again, leaving Jake with a newborn to care for. Peyton stuck by his side and helped him with everything. Raising the baby and school.

When he proposed after graduation, he had no ring. He didn't get down on one knee, and he hadn't asked her father's permission. Nikki had come back to town and filed for temporary custody of Jenny, pending a trial. It was granted, since she was the baby's mother. Jake's lawyer had told him that the only way for him to get custody was to prove he could provide a more stable home environment than Nikki could. He and Peyton decided that if they got married, she could adopt Jenny, and Nikki would be out of the picture.

When Nikki left the state with the baby, Jake insisted they go find her, and Peyton just couldn't go through with it. The thought of being married and in something forever, and giving up all her personal dreams was just too much. Jake had essentially had to choose between his daughter and Peyton, and it was no surprise when he just kissed Peyton one last time - both of them with tears in their eyes - and sped off down her street, beginning his search for his daughter.

"So you were going to adopt and raise a baby that wasn't yours?" Lucas asked once Peyton had finished speaking.

"That was the plan."

"That's..."

"Insane? Stupid? Something only a naive 18-year-old would do?" she filled in, laughing softly.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's...admirable." She shrugged one shoulder, and he raised her hand to kiss her knuckles. "It's what Deb did for me," he added softly, and she smiled, though her eyes were fixed on the table. "I'm sorry. I...I judged you, and I shouldn't have."

"I'd probably judge you a little if I found out you'd been engaged," she said. Her eyes flew up to meet his, and he could see the worry there. "You haven't been, right?"

"No," he laughed. "No. My relationships have been...fairly insignificant."

"I'm sure those women would be thrilled to hear that," she teased.

"Maybe not them, but I bet you are."

"Yes, actually." They both laughed, and he leaned over and kissed her forehead. He thought it might mean something that she kept her eyes closed for a few seconds after. "How come you never managed to tie a girl down?"

"I've tied girls..."

"Stop!" she cried, holding up her hand. "I don't want to hear that stuff."

"Joking."

"It's _not_ funny."

"To answer your question, I guess I just hadn't found a woman I could see myself with for...ever," he said. He shrugged a shoulder like it was a simple statement, but a simple statement was not what she heard.

She heard _hadn't_, not _haven't_. That simple word had her head spinning, wondering if that meant he thought he'd found the right woman in her. It also had her wondering why she wasn't pushing him out the door.

Instead, they tidied up their food and checked the movie times of the cinema down the block before deciding to watch Legends Of The Fall on her sofa. When she told him midway through the film that she thought it was the most passionate movie ever, he just smiled and pulled her a little closer, and pressed a kiss to her hair.

She cried at the end and he pretended he didn't notice until she looked up at him with those green eyes shining, and he wiped her tears and told her that he'd never seen her cry. He said it like he'd known her forever and it was some great revelation.

She said she didn't like to cry, and he said he knew. He said it like he'd known her forever and it was just a given.

Truthfully? She felt like she'd been with him for a lot longer than just a couple weeks. She felt like she wanted to be _with_ him. In any way that implied. She didn't really know how it would work, or why him, or why then or why...anything. She just liked him sitting next to her, and she liked hearing him talk about just about anything, and she certainly liked sleeping next to him.

There were serious feelings on her part, and she wondered if he felt them to.

And if he did, what that all meant.


	15. Chapter 15

Wednesday morning, Lucas strode into the office after a meeting that had him finalizing the deal to bring in that 'big name author' he'd been talking about. Needless to say, he was in a good mood. He was wearing his new suit, his hair was working, his assistant was in control of everything he'd asked her to do. The sun was shining, he had a hot coffee in his hand, and he was in an incredible mood.

And there was only one person he wanted to share any of it with.

"Mia," he called as he walked past. He pointed to Peyton's door when the girl looked up. "She in?" Mia simply nodded as the phone rang, and he pushed open Peyton's door.

"Mia, do you have the...?" she started, before looking up from her computer screen. "Oh. Luke."

"Seriously. You need to work on your greetings. I'm starting to get a complex."

"Why are you so smiley? What's wrong with you?"

"I'm smiling and you think something's wrong?" he asked with a chuckle. She rolled her eyes and went back to her work. "What are you doing this weekend?"

"I...don't know," she said distractedly. "Why?"

"You're coming away with me."

"What?" she asked, her eyes meeting his. "Lucas, no. What are you talking about?"

"We'll just go to the Hamptons house."

"You have a house in the Hamptons?"

"Dan and Deb do. They're away. You're coming with me."

"Lucas," she said, standing from her desk and walking towards him. "I...it's very nice of you to offer, but...I'd rather just curl up in your bed. At your apartment."

"But we can't do anything in New York. I can't take you to dinner, or..."

"Yes, you can. We just have to be rational about it."

"I don't want to be rational with you," he said seriously, and she tilted her head at him.

Of all the things he said, that was probably the most telling. He was a fairly rational man. He worked hard, and he was level-headed and he didn't make rash decisions. That he kept making them with her told her a lot. It told her that perhaps she was his weakness. She kind of liked being his weakness.

"Well...what _do_ you want to be with me?" she asked seductively, toying with the fabric of his tie.

It was dangerous, and they both knew it. They couldn't do that type of thing in the office. She shouldn't have been touching him at all, and he shouldn't have been asking her to go away with him, not during work hours.

"Peyton..."

"Come on, Luke." She took a step away from him because she knew she had to. "Convince me."

"OK, stop," he breathed out. "That's not fair. You can't...I hate it when you say things like that, because I always interpret them differently than you mean them."

She locked eyes with him from across the desk that now separated them, and she smiled.

"No, you don't."

"Fuck," he whispered. "I need to...I have to get out of here. You're...That's not fair."

"You said that already." She put her hand on her hip and smiled at him, and he squinted back at her.

"You're enjoying this."

"A little," she said with a laugh. "Come on, Luke. We'll go to dinner. We'll stay at your place. We'll..."

"I like when you call us a 'we'," he interrupted her.

"Well, aren't we one?"

"Yeah. Of course. It's just nice." They shared a smile, then he ran his hand through his hair. "Come here." She rolled her eyes, but walked towards him again, stopping just a couple feet away. "So you need convincing, huh?"

"Mhmm."

He reached out and pulled her flush to his body, and he pressed his lips to hers quickly. She let out a surprised sound, and her hand fell to his chest, and just as she opened her mouth to him, he pulled away.

"Convinced?"

"Not quite," she said, her eyes still closed. "I might need more convincing. At my place."

He chuckled at let her go, and winked before he made his way to the door. He noticed that she was still in the same place, biting her bottom lip subtly.

"8:00 sound alright?" he asked smugly.

"Earlier is better," she admitted. He just laughed again before pulling the door open.

She needed to figure out what she was going to do. She knew that this...relationship...with Lucas was not ending. Well, not if she had anything to do with it. One kiss from him could leave her absolutely lost, and that was something she was going to hang onto for as long as she could.

But, they worked together. They were both VPs at their company. She was sure there was some sort of rule that forbade them being together.

But she'd never really been one to follow rules.

And if one kiss could make her feel that way, how would a deeper relationship feel? How would holding hands in the car on the way out of town for the weekend feel? How would...

How would being in love feel?

It was crazy to think that up to not even a month before, she had been dead set on hating him. Now she could see herself potentially falling for him.

But she'd take the company employee conduct manual home that evening anyway, just to double check the rules.

By 4:30, she was ready to be home with Lucas.

And as soon as that thought entered her mind, she replayed that night months ago when they'd had drinks and really talked for the first time. They'd talked about home, and how maybe she hadn't found hers yet. She couldn't stop thinking about how her apartment felt so much better with him there. It felt more complete, and more lived in, somehow. Even his place, she'd felt at home there.

She was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, home wasn't a place at all. It was a feeling, and that feeling could be brought out by anything. Maybe Lucas was what brought that feeling out in her.

She could have left right at 5:00, but she knew that Lucas was staying until 6:00 at least, and she figured they could just leave together. She hadn't told him as much, but he'd figure it out.

When 5:59 rolled around, she'd had enough of waiting for him to pop his head in and ask if she wanted to go. She marched out of her office with her bag over her arm, and straight through Lucas' door.

"Uh. Hi," he said with a smirk. She looked all worked up over something. He liked it.

"Are you ready yet?" she asked. "We're the last ones left in here."

"You're so impatient, Peyton." She glared at him and placed on hand on her hip, and he rose from his chair. "I just need to grab my things. I'll meet you at the elevator."

He watched her walk away, mesmerized momentarily by the swing of her hips and her slender waist, and the skirt that hugged her curves. And those Prada boots. _God_, he loved those boots. That woman could make anything look good. She could make those boots look like they were fucking _made_ for her.

"You really couldn't wait until 8:00, huh?" he asked as he walked up behind her, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

"I'm sure I could have done it if I wanted to."

"You just didn't want to."

"Exactly," she said with a shrug of her shoulder.

The elevator arrived and they stepped on. Lucas pressed the button for the parking garage, and he thought it odd how silent she was being, considering their flirtation that day. Well, every day. Whatever.

Now, Lucas was a forward man. That was no secret. He didn't mess around, and he went after what he wanted. He made no apologies for any of that. He had learned that Peyton was much the same, though perhaps in a more delicate way.

So when she reached out and pressed the button to stop the elevator somewhere between the 20th and 19th floors, he shot her a look that displayed his confusion.

She didn't say anything in response to that look. She just dropped her bag on the floor of the elevator and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him hard and pressing herself against him in the process.

"Peyton..."

"Don't talk," she commanded.

The hungry look in her eyes left him breathless, and he just let her kiss him again. She swept her tongue into his mouth, and he held her close with one arm as the other tangled in her hair. When she started pushing off his jacket, he tried to protest, but she just kissed him harder. Sure, he was stronger, and he could have pushed her away, but...Well, she obviously knew what she wanted, and who was he to deny her?

Once his jacket was on the floor with her bag, she reached for his belt buckle and he sucked in a breath when she brushed against him through his pants.

"Peyton, baby..."

"I said be quiet," she told him, her eyes locking with his. He just nodded his head.

He was completely and totally at her mercy.

She reached into his boxers and took him in her hand, and he squeezed her hip as he muttered a curse. She could tell he was about to say more, so she stroked him a couple times, and he released her and let his hands grip the railing beside him. She had him literally backed into a corner. He couldn't say he didn't love it.

"I've been thinking about this all afternoon," she murmured. "You can't kiss me in my office like that, then just walk away."

"So is this...Fuck..." He lost his train of thought when she she twisted her hand in a most incredible way. "Payback?"

"No," she said, her eyes mischievous and a smirk on her face.

"What are you...?"

Her eyes stayed locked with his as she knelt before him, pulling his hardness out of his pants. His heart was beating rapidly, and his eyes were clouded over with lust. He had no idea where all of this was coming from. All he'd done was given her a kiss in her office. Nothing major. They kissed all the time. Maybe not at the office, or even within blocks of the building, but still. He wasn't sure what made today different.

Then she took him in her mouth, and he was lost to any real thought.

She'd never been that girl. She'd always been able to control herself and her urges. And then Lucas Scott came along, and all that went to hell.

That one kiss, and she wanted to find a way to show him what he did to her. She wanted him to know that she couldn't help herself around him. She wanted him to feel that feeling in his stomach when she looked at him. He may have had it already. Maybe she didn't need to stop the elevator to prove it.

But this way was far more fun than just asking.

His hands tangled in her hair as he closed his eyes at the feel of her tongue circling his tip. Peyton was good at everything she did, he was convinced. But the girl could get a fucking _medal_ for this. He never asked her to do it, she always just did. That probably just added to why he liked it so much. That, and he was a man. He'd be crazy not to like it.

She wrapped her hand around him, and he bucked his hips when she trailed her tongue along his length.

"Peyton, I'm gonna..." He looked down at her and their eyes locked. She just winked at him.

And that was it. He couldn't hold out any longer. That wink? That wink was a green light for him to just let go in her mouth. He couldn't have stopped himself it he'd tried. He watched her swallow like it was the most easy and natural thing in the world, and he thought he'd be hard again, just seeing that.

She zipped his pants for him and buckled his belt, and she picked up his jacket and tossed it to him. All that before he'd even been able to say a word. She started the elevator again, and he was pulling his jacket over his arms.

He reached out and pulled her back to his chest, leaning down to speak into her ear.

"I really don't know what all that was about, but thank you," he muttered.

"What? You've never had a girl go down on you in an elevator before?" she asked seductively. He held her a little tighter. He loved it when she talked like that. She felt him hardening against her again, and she turned in his arms, raising her eyebrow at him.

"I can't help it," he said seriously. "That's just what you do to me."

"Save it till we get to my place," she said, leaning forward and brushing her lips against his.

He took his keys from his pocket and dropped them into her palm, and he chuckled when her eyes lit up. She'd been begging to drive his SUV, and he'd kept saying he'd let her. Eventually.

This car ride was going to be uncomfortable enough. He didn't want to be distracted as he tried to get them to her apartment.

"You won't regret this," she promised, shaking his keys in her hand.

"You won't regret this, either." He reached for her wrist, and brought her hand to the front of his pants, and she completely understood what he was saying. Not that he was being overly subtle.

He watched her walk in front of him all the way to his vehicle. That wasn't helping his situation at all. It also didn't help that she kissed him as he held the door open for her, or that when he climbed into the passenger's seat, she gave him the most perfect smile he'd ever seen.

She backed out of his space, and when she pulled out onto the street, she started driving like it was her vehicle and she'd owned it for years. The sight of her there, one hand on the wheel, her boot-clad foot pressing the gas, and her sunglasses over her eyes...Well, he thought he was going to embarrass himself.

"Stop staring," she said after a few minutes.

"Sorry! You're just _so_ fucking hot."

"Quit it."

"This isn't fair. Letting you drive was the worst choice I have ever made," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously.

"I just mean...I'm already turned on, and now this? Beautiful woman driving my car?"

"Luke," she said with a laugh, glancing over at him quickly, "try to focus on something else."

"If I could do that, I would have done it months ago," he mumbled. He looked out the window and away from her. He was almost distracted. And then she reached over and placed her hand on the inside of his thigh. "Peyton."

"What?"

"Stop it, or I'll make you give me a hand job right now."

"What are you, 17? Who wants a hand job?" she asked with a smirk.

"First of all, stop watching Entourage," he said, laughing at her. "Second of all, a good hand job is actually rather enjoyable."

"Not a bad one?" she teased.

"God no," he answered quickly.

"Hmm."

"What's that? What's _hmm_?"

"I was just wondering if you're serious." She shrugged one shoulder.

He knew what that meant.

"You'd do it, wouldn't you? Right now?"

"You just said you'd make me."

"We both know that I can't _make_ you do anything," he said seriously. "If you didn't want to, you wouldn't."

"Well, that's true," she said softly.

"Would you?"

"Lucas, I'm not answering. It'll just get you all...worked up."

"I'm already all worked up."

"We need music," she said, reaching for the radio control.

"That wasn't a no," he noted. He saw her trying to hide her smile.

She totally would have.

She parked at her building minutes later, and she tossed his keys back to him as she walked towards the elevator. He followed behind her, shaking his head. How in the hell was he the one this woman was with? He honestly didn't know.

She saw him eyeing that red button once they were ascending towards her floor, and without even looking at him, she knew what he was thinking.

"Don't even try," she warned.

"It crossed my mind," he said gruffly.

"Only 10 floors, Luke, I'm sure you'll make it," she teased. He didn't appreciate that much.

As soon as they were inside her apartment, he had her pulled against him. She really hadn't expected any different. After that first bruising kiss, she moved away from him a little bit, and he let her. They both needed a minute to just step back and cool down. Well, no, they really didn't, since they were behind closed doors now, but it couldn't hurt.

She bent down to unzip her boots, but he rushed forward and reached for her arm, stilling her hand.

"The boots stay on." His eyes were dark, and his voice was deep, and she didn't dare argue.

Then he was tugging down the zipper of her skirt as they walked towards her bedroom, and when he pushed her back onto the bed, he just smiled at her before kissing down past her navel.

He told her she wouldn't regret that little stunt in the elevator.

And he was not a liar.

----

When they finally got around to making dinner, Lucas recounted the events of his day that had him smiling earlier when he walked into her office. She told him she was proud of him, and he leaned over and kissed her. The girl just got sweeter and sweeter.

She poured a couple glasses of wine, and when Lucas' cell rang, she insisted he answer. She reached for that employee manual from her bag while he talked on the phone, but after a moment, her attention was stolen.

"...No, man, I can't tonight...I'm at my girl's place..."

His girl. She already kind of knew she was his girl, but it was still nice for him to say it. And for him to say it to someone other than her.

"What's this?" he asked, sitting next to her on the sofa. He glanced at the document in her hands and furrowed his brow.

"Just checking to see how bad it is for us to be together," she said, and he just shook his head.

"So far, I'm thinking it's pretty good," he said sweetly. She smiled before she took a sip of her wine.

"According to this, it's bad." She held up the binder, and he read the cover and pursed his lips.

"What's it say?"

"Romantic relationships between employees are strictly prohibited. Should two employees knowingly engage in a romantic relationship, one or both parties will be deemed in breach of their entry contract, resulting in termination of employment," she read.

"Well, that sounds a little ridiculous," he said, pulling the papers into his own hands. "And how do you _unknowingly_ engage in a romantic relationship. Who wrote this?"

"That's not really the point here," she said. She wanted to laugh, at least a little bit. She loved those little reminders that he was such a literary thinker.

She knew he didn't care about any rules. She took comfort in knowing that he just wanted to be with her, against their better judgement or not. She kind of felt the same.

But she kind of really didn't want to get fired, either.

"Well...so what," he said, closing the binder and dropping it on the table. "I don't care."

"You don't care if you lose your job?" she asked incredulously.

"I'd be alright. I've got lots of cash in the bank. I'd find something else."

"Well, that's nice for you, Luke, but..."

"No but. There's no but here, Peyton," he said, squinting at her.

"I can't lose my job," she said softly.

"You won't." He took her face in both his hands, forcing her to look at him. "OK? I promise."

"You can't promise me that. It's very sweet of you to say that, but you can't."

"What are you saying?" he asked. He wasn't able to hide his irritation, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. "Don't sugar coat it either. If you want out of this, just tell me."

"No!" she answered. "No, I don't want...I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?"

"Maybe we should talk to Steve," she said meekly, shrugging her shoulders.

"What?" he asked. "You want to admit we're together?"

"Honesty. It might work."

"I was thinking we'll just make sure no one finds out," he said.

"So that when they do find out, they're pissed we've been sneaking around?" she asked angrily. "That's a _great_ plan, Lucas."

"Better than yours."

"It's not a competition!" She stood from her place and began pacing in front of him, and when he tried to reach for her hand to stop her, she pulled it away. "We should have looked at this before we started anything."

"Yeah. That would have worked," he muttered sarcastically. "Peyton, it's always been there between us. This stupid...this manual doesn't change anything."

"Yes, it does! It really does."

"So you're going to let some stack of papers tell us we can't be together?" he stood in front of her and placed his hands on her upper arms. "I guess I thought I...this...meant more to you than that."

"Don't do that," she said coldly.

"What? Tell it like it is?"

She glared at him, then pulled away and shook her head.

"I think maybe you should go. This is...I don't want to do this right now."

"I'm not going anywhere." He was defiant, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Luke, come on. We can't even have a rational conversation right now."

"So! How are we supposed to have a conversation - rational or not - if I'm not here?" he countered

"This is stupid. What are we even doing?" she asked in frustration. "We're either fighting or having sex."

"So stop pissing me off! Or turning me on!"

Their eyes locked across the room, and they both smiled a little bit. It was probably the most absurd argument either had ever had. They were just each too stubborn to say so. And their relationship wasn't just sex and arguments. It was a hell of a lot more than that.

And somehow, that one shared smile ended the entire argument. It was acknowledgment that they were being ridiculous, and it was an apology.

"So what now?" she asked softly.

"Now, you come over here and kiss me," he said, and she smiled as she rolled her eyes. "And you let me apologize for being a jerk, and you apologize for being a bitch." Her jaw dropped and he laughed at her. "And you tell me that you want us to be together."

"Do I really have to say all that, or can I just assume you know it already?" she asked, taking a couple steps towards him.

"Say it."

"Sorry I was a bitch," she said. He smiled and took her hand in his. "And I do want to be with you."

"Start over. You didn't use the right words," he teased. She hit his arm and they both laughed. "I want to be with you, too. Manual be damned."

"So what happens when people find out?"

"We prove that our relationship doesn't affect our work," he said simply. "And we tell them to mind their fucking business."

She let out a soft laugh, and he just smirked at her. "You make it sound so easy."

"It is easy," he insisted. "Until it's hard."

"Thanks, Plato," she mumbled sarcastically.

"Plato didn't say that."

"Shut up!" she cried. "You bug me."

"Can you trust me that it'll work out?" he asked. She let out a short sigh and nodded her head. It was hard for her to trust anyone. It was hard for her to trust him. But she'd do it. "And now can you tell me that you'll come with me to the Hamptons this weekend?"

"What is with you and the Hamptons?"

"It's beautiful! Big house all to ourselves for the weekend. Swimming pool, sunshine...There's this great restaurant I'd love to take you to. And I just have to say, I thought that I'd already convinced you earlier. Twice."

"Lucas," she hissed.

"Seriously? You're getting shy? You gave me a blow job in an elevator this afternoon," he said, watching as her face went beet red. He pulled her against him, and she buried her face in his chest. "Oh my God, you're so cute."

"I don't like you right now." Her voice was muffled, but he chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "Fine. Hamptons this weekend."

"Yeah?" he asked needlessly. "Good. I was prepared to convince you again, but..."

"Oh really?" She pulled away from him, and he saw that her eyes were shining, and she had that little smile on her lips.

"You're insatiable, Peyton Sawyer."

"Just call it make up sex," she murmured, leaning up to kiss him.

"Mmm...that's the best part of fighting with you," he said. She laughed as she led him back to her bedroom.

Before he left that evening, she told him that she just couldn't control herself around him sometimes.

She was thrilled when he, very seriously, said that he felt the same way.


	16. Chapter 16

Waking up alone in a strange bed is never a fun thing. But when Peyton noticed that the sheets smelled like that familiar cologne, her heart rate returned to normal. She stretched out on the king sized bed then sat up, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. Checking the time, she saw that it was after 10:00. The large patio doors that led outside were closed, but the morning sun was pouring in.

The Scott's Hamptons house was everything a Hamptons house should be. Bright and airy. A clean, beachy feel, white linens, and a big kitchen. Lots of windows and a big lawn, and a well-kept pool.

For all the convincing it took to get her there, she really did love it. Lucas had let her drive once they got out of the city. He said it was worth it to see that smile on her face. They drank frappaccinos and listened to the classic rock station. Lucas would sing along, and Peyton would laugh and tell him to stick to books.

They'd made a simple dinner in that big kitchen, sat outside and let the sun go down around them. Peyton insisted they lay on the grass in the huge, secluded back yard, and Lucas indulged her without any questioning. They watched the stars, just because they could, and then they went in to that big bed.

"You're up." Lucas appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He was wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans. She loved that simple look on him.

"Mhmm. Sort of," she said, laying back against the pillows. "This bed is amazing."

"I made pancakes."

"How long have you been up?" she asked through her yawn.

"Couple hours. I didn't want to wake you," he said with a shrug.

"Thank you."

She stretched again, and her leg slipped out from beneath the sheet. When she turned on her side, he could see the bare skin of her shoulders, and when she tucked her hands up under her cheek and looked over at him, he took a breath. He really didn't understand how one woman could be so many different things. But she was. He wanted to know them all.

"Get up," he commanded.

"What? Why?" she laughed.

"Because if you don't get out of that bed right now..." His voice trailed, knowing she'd understand, and she just smiled at him. She moved to stand, but he stopped her. "No! Wait until I leave. Please. I can't...Just...I'll be in the kitchen."

He heard her laughing as he made his way down the hall, and he scowled a little bit. She made him feel like a teenager. And then she laughed at him for it. It wasn't that he was mad, he just didn't really understand it.

He needed to find a way to tell her he was in love with her.

Because he was. After their argument at her place earlier in the week, he realized that the thought of losing her killed him. He didn't want to be without her, and he was getting the impression that she didn't want to be without him, either. It had only been a month, but it didn't matter. He was pretty sure he'd loved her before that first night together, and he just hadn't known it.

He'd never felt like this about a woman before. Ever. She was changing him in subtle ways, without ever asking him to. Not that he was a big partier before - no matter what the local gossip circles said - he'd almost given up going out, save for the occasional beer with his friends. He wanted to spend his Fridays and Saturdays with Peyton, cuddled up in one of their beds or on one of their sofas, reading or listening to music and talking about all the things they hadn't gotten to talk about during the week.

He found himself, for the first time in his life, picturing a future with someone. _With_ someone. It wasn't just him with someone in the background. It was a life together. Give and take and push and pull, just like he already had with Peyton. But in his mind's eye, that future had rings and a house in the suburbs and maybe a child or two.

And it scared the hell out of him. He wasn't that guy. He was the guy who'd said he loved Manhattan and would never leave. He was the guy who liked kids, but never desired to have any. He was the guy who, a month into a relationship, would be looking for the quickest exit.

He was in unchartered waters, and he had no idea what to do. Sure, he could just keep going the way they'd been going - they hadn't even labeled themselves yet! - but having those feelings and not telling her was eating him alive.

When she walked into the kitchen in just her sundress with her bikini beneath it, she saw him standing at the counter with his back to her. He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear her come in.

"Smells good," she noted.

The mug he'd been holding slipped from his hands when he was startled, sending it crashing onto the counter, spilling hot coffee on his hands. A piece of glass sliced his palm, and he cursed in pain as the blood started to trickle.

Peyton was at his side immediately, reaching for a towel and dropping it on the coffee to sop it up, and then for another, which she draped over her shoulder. She took his hand and led him to the table.

"I'm so sorry! Are you OK?" she asked worriedly.

"Fine. Just...cut and smell like coffee," he said, trying to make a joke.

She placed the towel over his palm, and he winced when she applied pressure. He watched her face as she dabbed at the cut, and the pain seemed to dissipate. She looked calm and in control. She looked like she knew what she was doing. She bit her bottom lip in concentration, and he had to smile.

"It's...what?" she asked when she noticed him staring.

"The sexy nurse thing. I like it."

"Well, clearly you're alright," she mumbled. "I see you haven't lost your charm."

"It'd take more than a little cut to make me lose my charm, baby," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"It's not that bad," she said, looking back to his hand. "I'll just clean it out with some iodine and put a bandage over it. You'll be good as new."

"_Are_ you a nurse?" he teased.

"No. Just adept in first aid." She handed him the towel and stood from her place, brushing a kiss to his temple. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

She started back down the hall, and he just couldn't help himself.

"You look amazing right now."

"Save it! I don't consort with patients!" she called back, making him laugh.

When she returned, they walked back over to the sink, and she cleaned the wound. She was impressed that he didn't wince or whine or complain at all. After she'd placed the bandage over the close to two inch gash, she kissed his palm sweetly and told him she was surprised he hadn't made a fuss. His response was that he'd had a lot worse, and the attention he got after those previous injuries wasn't nearly as nice as hers.

They went outside after breakfast and cleaning the mess in the kitchen, and Lucas had to clear his throat when she pulled her dress over her head. She rolled her eyes beneath her sunglasses, and she threw the balled up cotton in his direction, making him laugh. He had changed into a pair of plain black board shorts, and when he removed his tee shirt, she had much the same reaction. She just hid it better. They lay on lounge chairs by the pool for almost an hour. She was just basking in the sun, and he was reading from a book whose title she couldn't see, and they were mostly quiet.

And then she stood abruptly, dropped her sunglasses on her chair, and dove into the pool. He didn't jump in after her, surprising the both of them. He was wrapped up in his book. Well, as wrapped up as he could be with her essentially half-naked and doing laps in the pool. That black bikini was pretty much a work of art, if you asked him.

After another 20 minutes, she swam over and crossed her arms on the side of the pool, her hair and skin wet and a smile on her face. He could feel her staring at him, so he lowered his book and shot her a questioning glance.

"How many women have you been with?"

"Um...what?" he asked. He furrowed his brow in confusion. In the conversations they'd had about past relationships, he got the impression that she didn't want to know.

"I'm curious. I mean, I've heard stories, and...Well, _look_ at you," she said, eyeing him.

"You don't want to know the answer. This conversation never goes well."

"Only if your number's really high."

"I...we shouldn't have this talk."

"Come on. You know mine. Well, most," she said, shrugging one shoulder.

"Most? What does _most_ mean?" he asked incredulously.

"It means you know about Jake, Julian, and Skills," she said. "There are only three more, and you're one of them."

"Oh."

"Luke."

"Sorry," he laughed. She really did hate it when he said '_oh_'. "I thought you didn't want to know."

"That was before. I want to know now," she insisted.

"Why?"

"Why are you so resistant to tell me?" she inquired. "It's a lot, isn't it?" He let out a sigh and squinted at her. "I feel like we're far enough into this that I should know how may women my boyfriend has slept with."

His heart nearly stopped. Boyfriend. He'd never really liked that title. He sure loved it now.

"I'm your boyfriend?"

"Not if you don't tell me how many," she said with a raised brow.

"Peyton, this is a bad idea," he tried again. "You've been with six people, and..."

"What? You've been with less?" she teased. "Wait. You weren't a virgin or anything, were you?"

"Ha ha," he said dryly.

"Lucas, just tell me. I won't freak out."

"I think you will."

"Well, then you'll get to talk me down. You said you like the crazy!" she said, and he could only shake his head. The girl was persistent, if nothing else. "Or I'll get a tennis bracelet out of it."

They both laughed, and he walked to the edge of the pool to kneel before her. She smiled up at him, then reached out and wrapped her hand around his calf in a way that was somehow encouraging, comforting, and insanely sexy, all at the same time.

"15."

"15!?"

"You said you wouldn't freak out."

"That was before I knew you were...Hugh Hefner!"

"If we're going womanizers, I'd rather Warren Beatty. Or like...Clooney, at least," he said in an attempt to ease the tension. She just let out a huff. Her hand was still on his leg, though. He thought that was a good sign. "I'm 30, Peyton. It's barely one a year since my first time."

"You lost your virginity 15?!" she asked with wide eyes.

"16." He let out a sigh and looked away quickly. "Should I put a call in about that bracelet?"

"That's...a lot to live up to."

"You don't have to live up to anything," he stated firmly. His tone was almost too harsh, but he didn't care. He needed to get the point across. "When I said you're different, that wasn't a line."

"Different how? I'm..." Her voice trailed and her words stopped, and she closed her eyes. "I'm being crazy."

"No, that reaction's pretty much what I expected."

"I'm sorry. I don't want to be that girl."

"I know you're not," he assured her. "And I want to be honest with you."

"It didn't seem like you wanted to be," she mumbled, making him laugh. "15."

"Counting you."

"Oh, well, in that case," she said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes, and he just stood from his place and dove into the pool. When he resurfaced, he pinned her against the wall and kissed her gently.

"You know I...I'm crazy about you, right?" he asked softly.

He was going to say he loved her. He just didn't want to scare her. This was an easier and less potentially embarrassing way of gauging how she felt about him.

"Yeah. I know."

That wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for.

----

He didn't want it to change things. He didn't want that voice in the back of his head to keep nagging at him, telling him to pump the brakes and take a step back. He was away for the weekend with his girlfriend, and it wasn't her fault that he was in deeper than she was. He'd always been in deeper than she was; he'd known that from the beginning.

But part of him was still wishing she'd just walk into the living room where he was sitting later that afternoon, and tell him she was in love with him.

He knew it was just that. A wish.

After their swim, she had gone to take a shower and get the chlorine out of her hair. He'd gone to the other bathroom so they wouldn't get distracted. She'd come out of the bathroom just has he was pulling on clean clothes, and in just her towel, she asked if he wanted to take a nap with her. He told her he wasn't tired, kissed her forehead, and told her to rest. She looked momentarily confused, but simply told him to wake her by 4:30 if she wasn't up.

He knew he was pulling away just a little bit. He couldn't help it. He just needed a little time to review his game plan. He didn't want to be without her, of course. He just had to figure out how to keep everything inside until she was ready to hear it. He just hoped that someday - preferably soon - she _would_ be ready.

"Luke," she whispered, peering around the corner of the wall into the living room. He looked up at her in confusion. "Just didn't want to scare you again."

"Cute," he said with a chuckle. "How was your nap?"

"Lonely. But good."

"Ah, the guilt trip," he said, faking fondness.

"No guilt trip. Just a fact," she said. She settled herself onto his lap on the chair he was sitting in, and she reached for his book, holding up the title so she could see what it was. "_Great Ex_. Hmm."

"Hmm?" he echoed incredulously.

"Not my fave." She shrugged her shoulder. "I'm not a big Dickens fan."

"How can you not be a Dickens fan?"

"I find him boring. Hard to read. He doesn't grab my attention," she explained.

"I don't know that I can accept that answer," Lucas said.

"It's just my opinion. It's not the be all and end all of Dickens' criticism," she said, and he just stared at her. "What's your favourite passage from this novel?"

She found it undeniably sexy when he recited the words without looking at the page or even opening the book. He gazed right at her, right into her eyes, and used a tone of voice that put goosebumps on her arms.

"_It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade._"

"That's...that's good," she admitted.

"It may not be the most critical line in the book, but...It's descriptive. Sets the tone. Creates a bit of a mood. It paints a picture so vividly..."

"Stop," she interrupted him, placing her hand gently over his mouth. "Stop. I'm convinced."

He kissed her palm as it rest over his lips, then she moved her hand.

"I know that look."

He adored that look. She got a little sparkle in her eye, and just a bit of a smile, and she was almost blushing. She blinked a little slower - involuntarily, he was aware - and she occasionally bit her bottom lip subtly.

How could he not adore all that?

"It's...your voice."

"My voice?"

"Yes," she answered simply. "I _love_ your voice."

"You do, huh?" he asked, smiling at her. She just nodded gently and he leaned forward to kiss her.

If she loved his voice, maybe she could love the rest of him, he thought.

"So," she said after they'd parted, "tell me about this restaurant we're going to."

"Tables. Food. Wine. The usual."

"Smart ass. Can I get a straight answer?"

"No. Just wear that dress I saw you had packed. The green one," he insisted.

"Green, huh?"

"It'll bring out your eyes. I love your eyes," he said. He smiled at her when she shook her head. "Don't do that. Don't shake your head. You're beautiful."

"Luke..."

"I'll just keep saying it until you either kiss me, or say thank you. Either will suffice."

She laughed softly before she pressed her lips to his, then murmured a thank you as she rest her forehead against his.

His phone rang on the table next to them, and he reached for it, answering without checking to see who it was. He hated to say he was thankful for the distraction, but he knew they had a reservation, and starting something would mean they'd miss it.

"Hello?...Hey, Deb. How's Vancouver?" he asked. He winked at Peyton, and she tried to stand from his lap, but he wouldn't let her. "Yeah. That place at Coal Harbour? It's beautiful...I'm glad...Yeah, I came out here with Peyton...She's good." Peyton ran her hand through his hair as she smiled. "I don't know. Maybe soon...OK, I promise...Yes, she and Brooke are really best friends...Small world...Alright, well enjoy yourself. I'll talk to you soon...Love you, too. Bye."

"Aww. You're such a good boy," Peyton said sweetly. He got the impression she wasn't patronizing him.

"She wants to meet you."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're my girl," he answered simply. "She wants to meet you and Brooke at the same time."

"That's sweet. I think I'll like her."

"I think she'll like you, too."

She kissed him quickly, then stood from his lap. He noticed that she moved around the house easily. She wasn't timid, and she didn't wait for his permission to do anything. He loved that. He hated when women got all needy in a new space. Peyton wasn't like that at all.

When he stepped into the bedroom, she kicked the bathroom door shut, insisting that she needed to get ready without him distracting her. He told her he needed to do the same. He pulled on a pair of black slacks and a charcoal grey shirt, and he smoothed out his blazer, but didn't put it on yet.

He knew she'd take ages. He knew it'd be worth the wait.

He sat back on the bed with his book in his hands, and he waited for her to open that door so he could see her in that simple green dress.

When she stepped out, he could only stare.

"God, are you beautiful," he sighed out, shaking his head.

"Stop. It's just a dress, Luke."

"No. It's _you_ in a dress." He stood from his place and crossed the room towards her. She coyly looked to the ground, and he had no idea how the girl with all the attitude and confidence could - just every once in a while - turn so shy. He wanted to do everything in his power to make her see herself the way he saw her.

He told her she was stunning, and she kissed him like she believed him.

The restaurant was a little hole in the wall. A dimly lit little Italian place with those checkered table cloths and a wine list Peyton could barely even comprehend. Lucas picked a red, then selected a few appetizers. The toe of Peyton's shoe brushed against his calf - continuously - and he could only smile across the table at her.

She insisted it was some of the best food she'd ever had, and he said it was his favourite Italian restaurant he'd ever been to, outside of Italy itself. She thanked him for sharing it with her, and he just chuckled and shook his head. He told her he loved sharing things with her, and she blushed.

They were walking along the beach after dinner and dessert, and Peyton's head was just a little buzzy from the two glasses of wine she'd had. She linked her arm through Lucas', and he smiled when she leaned against him. She shivered and he draped his jacket over her shoulders.

He really was a gentleman.

"You ever think about how lighthouses are kind of unnecessary now?" she mused, looking up at him. "I mean, they weren't, obviously. But now, with GPS and depth finders, and all these complicated navigation systems, they aren't _really_ needed anymore."

"And how do you know that?"

"My dad captains a drudging boat," she explained with a shrug. "There are all these lighthouses, and...I dunno. I think they're kind of beautiful. They're symbolic, and historic, and...I think they're romantic."

He just let out his breath and shook his head. She kept surprising him. He loved that. She kept him on his toes, and she would say things like that, and he'd be falling again. She was still sometimes a mystery, but every time she'd go on about something so simple, so beautiful, he'd learn a little more about her.

There was nothing about her that he didn't love so far.

"You're an old soul," he stated after a few moments.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good."

"Why?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

"Because I'm an old soul, too."


	17. Chapter 17

Peyton felt a shift over those couple days with him. They could be together - really together - without worrying about who would see or where they'd go. They did as they pleased. They went to dinner and strolled the beach. They had breakfast at a little café and kissed across the table. She wiped ice cream from his lip when they were out on Sunday afternoon. They were a couple.

And they talked. About anything and everything.

He asked about her other two 'lovers'; a word he hated using, but the only one that was appropriate. He wondered how she, looking like she did, had only ever been with six people. She explained that she and Jake had waited until she was ready, and she was close to 18 when she lost her virginity. After that, she had dated someone for about six months when she was 21, then another guy for a few months. She met Julian, and the two of them had dated for three years until just a year before she met Lucas.

She asked him about his most serious relationships. His, for the most part, were far less serious than hers. She had guessed as much. His longest relationships were in high school and college. An eight month relationship and a rough break up after his junior year at Columbia left him jaded and cynical, and since then, he hadn't dated anyone for longer than a month.

When Peyton raised her brow and asked what that meant for her, he leaned over and kissed her and told her that he would be with her as long as she wanted him to be. He feared he'd said too much, made too much of a promise, but she just smiled and kissed him again. Maybe it wasn't such a big promise after all.

She felt like that simple statement, just a little bit vague, but still so clear, changed everything. She didn't think it was in a bad way. She was falling for him hard and fast, and it wasn't scary, and she didn't want to slow anything down. She just wanted him.

She still thought it was insane. He drove her crazy half the time. He was hardheaded and stubborn, and he had a rebuttal for everything. He argued her on the silliest things, and she hated that. But she loved it, too. She adored that he didn't just sit back and agree with her on everything. He may have taken it to the extreme, but she liked that extreme. Most of the time. She got the impression that she drove him crazy half the time, too.

It was fun. It was interesting. It kept her on her toes, and it kept her intrigued. She felt like she didn't know him, and that maybe she never would, and that maybe she'd spend a long time trying to learn all those details. She wondered if maybe that was the mark of a relationship that would last forever; that intrigue and that insatiable need for learn more about the other person, trivial or otherwise.

Lucas refused to leave Peyton's place once they were back in the city. She didn't protest. They simply collapsed on her bed after dropping their bags by the closet in her room.

She woke up in the night and watched him for a moment. His hair was a mess, and his skin was sun kissed, and the muscles of his back looked almost _too_ defined, _too_ irresistible, even when he was in a deep sleep.

She brushed a kiss to his temple and ran her fingers through his hair, then stood from the bed. Walking to the kitchen, she couldn't stop replaying certain things he'd said to her. She believed everything. She wanted to. It was easy. She didn't think he'd lie to her, and he hadn't yet, and she got the feeling that he just wouldn't be able to if he tried. She thought back on her relationship with Julian, wondering how many times he'd lied to her. A quick tally, and she ran out of fingers.

But Lucas wasn't Julian. Lucas wasn't like anyone she'd ever met.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping into the kitchen. "You OK?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Just couldn't sleep."

"Warm milk?" he asked as he looked at the contents of the pot on the stove. He'd always thought that an old wives' tale.

"It helps."

"Alright." He wrapped his arms around her, and she relaxed in his embrace.

"Go back to bed. You've got that breakfast meeting tomorrow."

"I'll wait for you. I can't just leave you alone."

"Honey, it's my apartment. I'll be fine," she said sweetly, turning in his arms. He just shook his head. She wanted to argue, but she knew it was futile.

He rubbed gentle circles on her back as she drank her milk, and neither of them said a word. She loved that they could just exist in the silence and the darkness and not have to say anything. But she couldn't let them just go back to her bedroom without saying it.

"Hey, Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"You know I'm crazy about you, too, right?" she asked. He let out a breathy laugh and closed his eyes. She could see the relief written on his face. "I realized I didn't say it. I thought I should."

"I was worried," he admitted.

"Were you?" She was surprised he was. How could he not know? Had she not made it clear?

"Yeah."

"Well, don't worry anymore, OK?" she said softly. He nodded and kissed her, then she reached for his hand and led him back to her bedroom.

She fell asleep immediately, soothed by her milk and his strong arms around her, but Lucas was awake for a while. Maybe he wouldn't have to hide his heart for too much longer.

----

They didn't see each other outside of the office all week, and Lucas was thankful. He wanted to see her, of course, but he felt like a little space would be good for them. For her.

Maybe a little bit for him, too.

Maybe she just needed to miss him a little bit, or maybe he just needed to stop being absolutely consumed by her every second of the damn day.

That plan didn't work. Good try, though.

Something would happen - something silly, like his neighbour would wear that hideous lime green jacket - and he'd want to tell Peyton. He closed a deal with a promising young author, and she just smiled at him when she heard the news. She wanted to talk to him more about it and he could tell, but the two of them couldn't have even that type of relationship in the office. As far as anyone else knew, they still merely tolerated each other. Sure, he'd pop into her office to chat, but he always closed the door and no one suspected that they weren't just talking business or taking each others' heads off.

He wondered if he missed her more than she missed him.

She stepped into his office on Friday afternoon, just after lunch. She had met with one of their artists to talk about an upcoming tour, and on the way back to the office, she realized that it was ridiculous that she hadn't really seen Lucas all week. He'd been locked behind his door, and the couple times she'd tried to go see him, his assistant said he was on the phone or otherwise occupied. After almost a whole week of work with no real interaction, she'd had enough.

"Well, well," she said from the door. He looked up from his desk and smiled at her, then she closed the door behind her and moved to sit across from him, perched on the edge of his desk. "I thought you were avoiding me."

"Now, why would I do that?"

"I don't know. It _has_ been a month."

"I told you..."

"I know what you said, but then you went M.I.A. for five days," she said, smiling as she raised her brow.

"Your office is next to mine. You didn't exactly need to send out a search party," he laughed. He sat back in his chair and she rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm serious. What's going on with you, Lucas?"

"Nothing. Just a busy week, that's all." He shrugged his shoulders, but she didn't look convinced and he felt like a jerk. She didn't deserve him pulling away. "Sorry. I guess I should have just explained."

"It's OK. As long as you're alright." And then he felt like more of a jerk. "I just miss you."

"I missed you, too," he said, making her smile.

Her cell rang in her hand and she looked at him apologetically, but he gestured for her to answer.

As he went back to his work - well, faking his work, since he couldn't concentrate with her sitting atop his desk like that - he tried to figure out what to do. Sure, it was early, and sure, she may not feel the same way bout him, but he was starting to feel like he just needed to say it. He needed to get it out of his system, and let her do with it what she wanted. If she felt like she could love him at some point, he'd take that answer. Maybe.

"Brooke wants me to go for drinks tonight," she said after she ended her call.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I owe her for that wardrobe thing, and I kind of...We haven't hung out much," she said. "Seems someone's been taking up most of my time. Well, except this week."

He smiled and shook his head. He wasn't going to live that one down, he quickly realized.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've hardly seen Nathan in like, a week and a half," he told her. "Yanks are on the road, so we don't even have game days now."

"So go out with him tonight," she said, shrugging her shoulder. "You and I can meet up tomorrow."

"Yeah?" he asked. She knew he wasn't asking if he should really go out with Nathan. He was asking if he'd see her the next day.

"Yeah. I'll come to your place whenever," she said.

"Alright." He nodded his head and smiled at her. "Go hang out with Brooke."

"She's going to love you for this." She placed her hand over his, then stood up and straightened out her skirt.

She had to know she was torturing him. He assumed that she was trying to, at least a little bit.

"As long as she takes care of you, I'll love her, too," he said, as she made her way to the door. "Be good."

"Would I be bad?" she asked innocently, that hint of that southern drawl he loved slipping into her speech. She turned to him and he just squinted at her playfully.

"You've got your moments, Miss Sawyer."

He heard her laugh until she was out the door and had it closed behind her.

----

Peyton met Brooke for drinks at their favourite little martini bar. They'd been going there for years, since it was right between their two apartments. The bartenders were cute, and the drinks were good, and that was enough for them. They didn't so much notice the bartenders this time, but it was still nice to have a decent martini under $15.

"Why does it feel like forever since we've done this?" Brooke asked with a laugh.

"Because it kind of has been."

"Oh. Right," Brooke said, and both girls giggled. "We've kind of been doing the post-boy-time debrief. It's weird to be 'out' again."

"I know. It feels like a different world," she said, gesturing subtly towards the two men at the other end of the room who were eyeing them. "Why did we love doing this so much?"

"We're talking like we're two old married women," Brooke laughed. Peyton just shook her head. "So you and Lucas are good?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"You think so?"

"I don't know. I feel like...he's been weird this week. Kind of distant," Peyton explained.

"That's weird. He's kind of been falling at your feet," Brooke pointed out.

"That's a little drastic," Peyton said with a chuckle. "But he has been pulling away a little, and I don't know why."

"Don't worry about it. He's nutso for you."

"Nutso? Are you 16?"

"Shut up!" Brooke cried, swatting Peyton's arm. "Why are you so worried? He took you away for the weekend, and you're going to his place tomorrow, right? It's not like he's dumping you or something."

"I guess."

"OK, what?" Brooke asked with a huff. "What aren't you telling me?"

"It's just...It's different with him, Brooke," Peyton said seriously, her tone changing. "I'm...I'm in deep with him, and I still feel like he's in deeper. It's a big deal."

"You think he's, like, in love with you?" Brooke asked skeptically.

"He might be. I think he is. It's crazy. I don't know what to do."

"Do you love him?" Brooke inquired knowingly.

She knew Peyton. She knew that the blonde usually took a little time before admitting to anything, and that she liked to evaluate everything in her head and her heart before saying anything out loud.

She also knew that if Peyton wasn't in love with Lucas yet, she was certainly getting there.

"I...I think I could," Peyton said softly. "But I don't know right now. I'm definitely falling for him. But Brooke, if he says it and I don't say it back..."

"Yeah, that's not an ideal situation."

"Not exactly."

"So if he says it, just say it back," Brooke said with a shrug.

"What?! I can't do that!" Peyton cried.

"Why not? If you're falling for him, you'll eventually be...landed," she said, making them both laugh. "Whatever. You'll be in love with him. So what's the difference?"

"The difference is it's a lie."

"So?"

"So I can't lie! Especially not about something this big," Peyton insisted. "I'll just be honest with him."

"Do what you have to do." Brooke waved to the bartender for another round. "Just know that if he says it, and you don't say it back...I mean, it'll..."

"Change everything. I know. God, Brooke, I really don't want to mess this up."

"You're the weirdest woman ever," Brooke laughed. "Who wishes for their boyfriend _not_ to say he loves her."

Peyton didn't answer. She didn't have an answer. She was asking herself the same thing.

----

Lucas and Nathan found themselves at an exclusive men's club they were members of, solely because Dan insisted they be. He paid their membership dues, and the boys just had to go for drinks every so often - once a month or so - and put in an appearance. They hadn't been in a while, so they decided that was where they'd head.

They shook hands and said hello to a few people they knew, then they each ordered a drink and sat in large leather chairs to talk. Lucas didn't really expect the question he was asked.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?"

"What?" Lucas scoffed.

Even he knew how transparent he was.

"Dude," was all Nathan could say.

"I know," he said, making Nathan laugh. "It's insane, and...stupid."

"It's a little fast, but I don't think it's stupid."

"The problem is, she isn't in love with me," Lucas said seriously.

"I think you should just be thankful that she doesn't hate you anymore, man," Nathan said with a laugh.

"I should be. I'm not."

"You gonna tell her?"

"I want to, but...she won't say it back," Lucas insisted.

"So?"

"So? So that'll be...horrible and awkward."

"Not really," Nathan shrugged. "She's still with you, so she obviously feels like that's where it's headed. What's wrong with her taking a little longer than you to get there?"

"Trust me. I can't say it if she won't say it back. She'll feel guilty, and I'll feel like a dick. It'll all just be bad," Lucas said firmly.

"So just wait to tell her. No brainer."

"You've never been in love."

"You're not exactly an expert, Luke," Nathan laughed.

"Well no, but when you feel it...you just want to yell it," Lucas said.

"Dude, I think you're supposed to check your purse at the door," Nathan teased. "You're seriously getting soft. It was so much better when she hated you. It was all insults and tension."

"The thing is, that's all still there," Lucas insisted. "That's why I'm so crazy about her, Nate. She...God, she drives me mad. She infuriates me. She's impossible, and stubborn, and...Seriously, we can't stand each other half the time."

"Healthy."

"I love it," Lucas said with a laugh. "I love her. I'm...I don't want to mess it up."

"You're really in love with her," Nathan said, as though he was just starting to believe it.

"Yeah," Lucas whispered.

He really was. He still didn't know what to do with it.

----

Lucas was home and in bed by 12:30, and the two brothers shared a laugh over how much things had changed in a little over a month. They used to meet up for drinks and stay until closing time. That night, Nathan was heading to Brooke's place, so the guys said goodbye around midnight and went their separate ways.

Lucas seriously thought of heading to Peyton's place, but he thought better of it. She'd said that she would come over the next day, and as badly as he wanted to see her, he thought there may be a reason for her wanting to wait until Saturday.

But then Brooke was occupied with Nathan, and so Lucas had to wonder what Peyton was doing that was keeping her from him. He trusted her, so he wasn't worried that she was...well, he wasn't really worried at all. He just wished she was laying in his bed with him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door at close to 2:00 in the morning. Once his nerves calmed and his hands stopped shaking, he jogged to the door and pulled it open, and Peyton threw her arms around him and clung to him desperately.

"Whoa, hey," he said worriedly, holding her just as tightly as she was holding him. "What's wrong? Are you OK?" She didn't answer, and he just about lost his mind. "Peyton."

"Yeah," she said softly. He pulled her through the door and locked it behind her, and when she pulled away from him, he noticed she was crying.

"What's going on?" he asked softly. "You're scaring me."

"There was a break in at my building," she explained. "A couple floors down. I just...I got scared, and..."

"You came over here this late all alone?"

"I took a cab. I'm sorry. I woke you, and..."

"Stop it," he insisted. "It's fine."

"I didn't want to leave, and it's stupid, but...I just feel safer with you," she said softly. He smiled and wiped her tears, then wrapped her in his arms again.

"You're shaking," he noticed, rubbing her back soothingly. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."

There was no innuendo in his voice, and she started crying again. He just wanted to take care of her. He loved her, and she knew it. She wanted so desperately to love him back. She would. She knew as much.

"Babe," he said softly, shaking his head empathetically. He stopped them in the hallway and moved to stand in front of her again. "You're alright now. You're safe with me."

"I know." She nodded and offered a weak smile, and he kissed her forehead.

He led her to his bedroom and took her bag from her, dropping it on the chair by the window. He watched as she peeled off her oversized sweater - he smiled at the Knicks' logo emblazoned on the back - and stepped out of her jeans. He tossed her the shirt he'd worn that night, and she smiled a little wider. She wanted that comforting scent, and that comforting man and that comforting bed. She pulled on his shirt and closed her eyes, and his arms were around her again, and he was whispering words she didn't really hear.

They lay down, and he opened his arms to her. She rest her head against his chest, and she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her nerves were already calming, and when she placed her hand over his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart, they calmed a little more.

He was almost asleep when she shifted against him and leaned up to kiss him. He was surprised, but he responded almost immediately. He knew how long it had been since they'd been together, and he couldn't say he didn't want the same thing, but he certainly didn't want to take advantage of her emotional state. If she was initiating it, he wouldn't stop her. He didn't know if he was even capable of stopping her. That wasn't a theory he particularly wanted to test.

She pulled away and sat up, and she lifted the shirt she was wearing up over her head and discarded it somewhere in the room. She pushed at his boxers and he let her remove them, and when they were both disrobed, he moved so he was on top of her.

"Peyton, I..."

She kissed him hard to silence him. She knew what he was going to say, and she couldn't let him do it.

"Don't say it," she pleaded. She almost cried again. She really did.

His heart nearly broke. He wanted to ask why not, or to get angry, or to tell her he didn't care if she didn't want to hear it, that he just wanted to say it.

But he just kissed her again instead.

It was different. It was the first time, really, that it felt like they were making love, not just having sex. It felt good, she realized, and not just for the obvious reasons. It was just different. Better, somehow, though she hadn't thought it possible. He touched her just a little softer, and she knew it wasn't because there were still tracks of tears on her cheeks. He whispered her name differently.

She wondered if he noticed that she whispered his name differently, too.

After he fell asleep, she lay awake for a while, doing a little math in her head.

She only really felt safe with him. She only really felt _right_ with him. She didn't like being without him. He took care of her. She wanted to take care of him. That all meant something. That all meant a lot.

She carefully pulled herself out of his arms and dressed in his shirt again, and she left his bedroom. She walked to the library, and inhaled the smell of all those books. That smell reminded her of him, now, and she smiled to herself. She turned on one of the lamps in the room and she walked around, looking through his collection for no reason other than she just wanted to do it, to be among those other loves of his.

It was appropriate, she thought.

She found a hardcover copy of _Great Expectations_, and she smiled when she saw that it wasn't the same copy he'd been reading the weekend before. She wondered how many copies he owned.

She stood there, in just his light blue button down shirt, her hair a mess and that book in her hands, and she opened to a random page and started reading.

She came upon a passage that had her crying again.

And of course, that was the moment Lucas appeared in the room.

"You have got to stop crying," he said with a weak smile. She let herself laugh as she wiped at her eyes.

"Sorry."

"Talk to me."

She could think of nothing better to say than the passage that had put tears in her eyes in the first place.

_"In a word, I was too cowardly to do what I knew to be right, as I had been too cowardly to avoid doing what I knew to be wrong." _

"_Great Ex_," he said fondly. He hadn't even noticed she was holding a book until she read from it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Peyton, stop apologizing," he demanded seriously. "You don't need to apologize."

"Yes, I do," she insisted. "You're...I know that you love me, and..."

He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have even alluded to it.

"Lucas, it's OK."

"Is it really? Because you're in here crying about it."

"No. I mean, yes, it's OK," she said softly. "And...I didn't think...I thought I didn't. I thought I was just falling for you, and I didn't want you to say it, because I wouldn't be able to say it back."

"I'm sorry."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Don't. God, I'm not making any sense." They both laughed softly, and he took her hand in his. "Luke, I wanted to be able to say it when you did."

"It's OK if you don't," he insisted.

"No. I don't mean..." She closed her eyes and took a breath. She really wasn't making this conversation easy on either of them. "You don't understand."

"I guess I don't," he said dejectedly. "If you don't want to..."

"Lucas, I love you," she interrupted, speaking quickly; almost desperately.

"What?" She smiled just a little bit at how boyish he sounded. Hopeful and sweet and surprised.

"I do. I love you. I'm in love with you. I just didn't know I was. _Am_. I...I love you."

He smiled and pulled her into his arms so fast that she laughed a little bit.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair.

She clutched him a little tighter, and he kissed her temple, brushing her hair to the side and pulling her as close as he could get her. She sniffled and he almost laughed. For a girl who hated to cry, she was certainly doing a lot of it.

"What's wrong?" he asked, doing his best not to sound like he was making fun of her. He really wasn't. He was just so damn happy, and he wanted her to be, too.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"You, a little bit," she admitted. She pulled away and they were both smiling. "My track record with serious relationships isn't great."

"We're different," he said.

She didn't say anything more. It was true, and she knew it. She'd felt it since...well, from the first moment they'd met. She knew he wasn't like anyone she'd ever met, and at first, she had thought that was a bad thing.

But it was a good thing. It was a _really_ good thing.

And when he brushed his lips against hers softly, his hands cupping her cheeks, he just convinced her once again.


	18. Chapter 18

Lucas woke the next morning to Peyton straddling his lap and running her hands over his chest and stomach.

She had shed the shirt she'd gone to sleep in.

Not a bad way to wake up at all.

"I love you," she said as soon as she saw his eyes open.

"You sure?" His voice was thick with sleep, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"Shut up. Say it back."

"Do you want me to shut up, or do you want me to say it back?" he asked cheekily. She shifted purposefully on his lap and he muttered a curse word. "OK, OK. I love you."

"Doesn't count," she said, smiling down at him as she put her hands on her hips. "Say it like you mean it."

"Baby, I'll say anything with you sitting naked on top of me."

"Luke," she pouted. He chuckled and smiled up at her.

"I love you."

"Say it again," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him.

"Are you serious?"

"Does it matter?" she challenged.

"I love you."

She kissed him before he could say it once more. He'd fully intended to.

His hands found her hips, and trailed up her sides, caressing her smooth skin lightly. She shivered a little, and there were goosebumps on her arms, and he flipped them over so she was on her back. He loved it when she was on top, but she was cold and he could tell. He felt like it was his job to take care of her in every way possible, and so he pulled the sheets up over them and she smiled and kissed him as a thank you.

She used her feet to push down his boxers, and he maneuvered out of them without ever really losing contact with her. He kissed her or touched her the entire time. He wouldn't be away from her now. It was symbolic. It was a kind of subtle promise.

He had every intention of pampering her. He always did. He loved it. Treating her well and making her come was as much for him as it was for her. She'd scoffed when he told her that, but it was the truth. He loved the way she said his name, and the way her hands ran through his hair when he kissed between her thighs. He loved the way she arched her back when his fingers were inside her, and the way she'd fist the sheets and tell him she was close.

This morning, she was taking that away from him but giving him something else entirely.

"Make love to me, Lucas," she whispered, her lips grazing the shell of his ear.

They'd never used those words before. His heart started beating faster because of them. They had all day - they had a long time, forever hopefully - for everything else. He was hard between her legs, and her breathing was shallow, and she was looking at him like she never had before.

His hand ran over her thigh and their eyes stayed locked as he pushed into her gently. Calmly. Slowly. She tipped her head back a little bit, and he kissed her until they broke apart and she begged him to move.

It was slow and almost lazy. There were more kisses. More gentle touches. More soothing whispers and more fluid motion. She didn't plead with him to move faster, and he didn't try to. She didn't lock her legs around her waist to press him deeper. He brushed the hair from her face and she ran her hands down his back so lightly that he almost didn't feel it.

She could tell he was trying to make it last even longer for her, but she just wanted him to let go. She wanted them to come together. It had always been intense and incredible, and she suspected it would be even more so now that they'd said those words.

She moved his hand from where it had been intertwined with hers above her head, and her eyes met his as she pushed it closer to where she wanted him to touch her. He smiled and kissed her, and she sucked in a breath when he started moving his hand against her between them.

"Luke," she breathed out, rocking her hips with his.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear and kiss along the line of her jaw, and when he spoke those three words, she was clutching his back and saying his name again. His hand kept moving as he thrust into her, then they were both falling over the edge in a way that left them both emotionally and physically exhausted. He gripped her hip and she squeezed his bicep so hard it left a hand print.

He collapsed on top of her, and she giggled softly when she saw the impression of her fingers on his arm. She soothed the flesh with a soft touch, and he kissed along her collar bone, up her neck to her lips, letting his tongue move against hers before he rolled to the side and onto his back.

"That was kind of amazing," she said after a few minutes of silence.

"Kind of?"

"I can't think right now."

"Hmm. That good?"

"You arguing?" she asked, rolling onto her side and running her hand over his stomach.

"Uh uhn," he managed. "I love you."

"Stop saying it."

"Why?" He laughed a little as he said it, considering how demanding she'd been when she woke him up.

"Because every time you say it, I get this crazy feeling in my stomach that makes me want to do very bad things with you, and I'm hungry, and I can't just stay in bed all day."

"Oh, I think you can," he said slyly. He ran his hand over her hip, but she pulled away from him and stood from the bed. "Hey!"

"Come on," she called as she stepped into the bathroom. "What's a girl got to do to get some scrambled eggs around here?"

"You just walked away from it," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing, babe," he laughed. "I'll be in the kitchen."

She joined him 20 minutes later, and she was wearing that simple blue cotton dress he loved so much, and her hair was wet and pulled up messily after her shower. She had on just mascara and a little lip gloss. And she looked damn beautiful.

He told her so, and she smiled and kissed him. She sat on his counter while she ate her breakfast, and he made fun of her for it, but she didn't care.

They spent the day together, doing things they hadn't done. They walked to a little coffee shop a few blocks from his building, and they had fresh baked cookies and coffee. They strolled through the park with his arm draped over his shoulder, not worried about anyone seeing them. They really didn't care. They were together, and that wasn't changing, and if someone took exception to that, well, that was their problem, not Lucas and Peyton's.

They lay in the sun in the park. Peyton's legs were stretched out in front of her, and Lucas had his legs bent with his elbows resting on his knees. Peyton looked to him and smiled, and she told him she liked everything about that day.

He could only smile and lean over to kiss her. He was thinking the same thing.

----

Tuesday morning, Peyton was sitting in her office, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and a new artists' contract in the other when the door opened.

"Peyton," Lucas said, all business-like. "Boardroom in 10. That work for you?"

"Um...yeah," she said in confusion. She didn't miss the wink he sent her before he walked away.

She really didn't know what all that was about. She hated impromptu meetings, and he knew as much. They disrupted the flow of her day, and were generally pointless. She didn't like being pulled from her desk for these silly little meetings. She deduced from that, that it must be something big. Lucas wouldn't pull her from her work without notice unless it was important.

If he did, he had to know she'd make him pay for it later.

She grabbed her notepad and pen when the time came and she headed towards the boardroom, where she saw Lucas at the head of the table, Steve at the other end, and a couple other senior staff members scattered around. She took her seat just as Lucas stood from his.

"Alright. We've got a new development," he announced. "Filming is beginning on _Larson's Edge_ this week. If it's a surprise to you, I can't apologize, because it was a surprise to me, too. Apparently, the studio had to push up filming due to a conflict the lead actress's schedule. Which, well, it's not ideal, but we can work around it."

"What does that mean? Steve asked quickly.

"It means that I'm going to be traveling to L.A. to give final approval on the script, as per the contract. I'll be sitting in on final revisions, and if all goes well, we'll have a lump sum payment come through by the 15th of the month."

"Alright," Steve said with a smile.

"And Peyton will come with me so we can begin negotiations on the soundtrack," Lucas continued.

"Whoa. Excuse me?" Peyton asked. Surely, he was insane.

"The producer wants to know right away which artists we have in mind. He wants to make sure we don't mess with his vision or something. It's now or never, Peyton. If you aren't willing to do this, I'll find someone who is," he said. She raised a brow at him, but he didn't falter. "Are you in or out?"

She didn't know whether to yell at him, strangle him, or pull him into her office and have her way with him.

"I guess I'm in," she said. She wondered if anyone else decoded the smile he sent her.

"Good. Kristin will give you a copy of our itinerary."

She had no idea what he said from then on, because he pulled his jacket off and draped it over the back of his chair, and when he pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, she saw the contour of the muscle of his forearms. She got a little lost in thought - some thoughts more distracting than others - of being away with him for...well, she wasn't entirely sure how long. Perhaps she should have been paying attention.

But she had to concentrate on work. It really was a business trip. This wasn't a weekend in the Hamptons with no agenda. She'd have to conduct meetings with him. They'd have to work as a team and be professional, and she really hoped they could pull that off.

Their meeting let out, and she stayed behind to talk to Steve, toying with her necklace in that way that Lucas always told her drove him wild. She watched him walk past a couple times, and she saw him clench his jaw. He knew she was teasing him. He stepped inside to grab the jacket he'd left behind, brushing against her just slightly in the process.

This was bad news. How in the hell were they going to work together with all this? The tension and the teasing and that underlying knowledge that they were together. Hidden smiles and sidelong glances and seemingly subtle touches. All those things that had brought them together and were keeping them together.

She was starting to regret saying that she was 'in'. She was starting to grow mad at him for not just taking someone else.

Once she was done her conversation, she marched straight into Lucas' office to see him standing behind his desk, flipping through a manuscript with a pencil between his teeth. Being mad would be a hell of a lot easier if he didn't look so sexy.

"Hey," he said, jutting his chin forward in his greeting as she pushed the door closed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked in a hushed whisper. How she could convey her anger in that, he wasn't really sure.

He knew exactly what she was talking about. He'd seen the look on her face in the board room, and he knew he'd pay for the ambush. He thought she might wait until they were at his place for the evening like they'd discussed.

"Business."

"Going away together?" she hissed.

"It's for work. We'll have separate rooms." There was a smirk on his lips that she actually glared at. They both knew damn well two rooms would be booked, but only one would be used.

"Lucas, this is...This is a _bad_ idea."

"I really don't think so. I need you there to negotiate soundtrack rights. No one else can do that like you can, and you know it," he insisted.

"Flattery will not help you right now. How are we supposed to do this?" she asked. "I can barely sit in a 30 minute meeting with you here."

"We don't have to pretend to hate each other in L.A. No one will expect us to glare at each other across the table. No one will be holding their breath, waiting to see if we scratch each others' eyes out."

"Can you stop for like, a second?" She put her hand on her forehead and started pacing his office. "Can we really do this? Because I gotta tell you, despising you is getting easier by the second."

"No matter how many times you say that, it still won't be true," he said, setting his manuscript on his desk.

"Luke, come _on_."

"It'll be fine," he promised. "We leave tomorrow morning. Pack tonight, come to my place, and we'll leave from there."

"I don't like you bossing me around." She put her hand on her hip, and he flashed her that smirk again. It took everything in her, but she managed to hide her smile.

"Sweetheart, I _know_ that's not true," he said, placing both hands on his desk and leaning down.

She let out a huff and headed for the door, but she turned to him before she pulled it open.

"I'll be over around 9:00," she said softly.

"Don't forget underwear," he said, laughing when she narrowed her eyes and let out a frustrated growl.

He really couldn't wait for this trip.

Sure, maybe it'd be hard, but it'd be a lot of fun, too. That much he knew.

----

"Are you afraid to fly?" Lucas asked. He eyed her knee, continuously bouncing, and the way she had her head tipped back against the headrest and her eyes closed.

They had gotten to the airport early, and they'd had a coffee, sitting in the big waiting area next to their gate. She sat across from him with her legs resting on the seat next to him. He rest his hand on her calf as she read the newspaper. He kind of wished they weren't going away on business.

They were in executive class. The one thing Peyton loved about business trips was that there was no need to fly coach. The company paid for everything, and her expense account was padded. Sitting next to Lucas, she should have felt better than when she sat alone, but she really didn't.

"No!" she answered quickly. He raised his eyebrow and turned towards her a little more. "I just get really restless."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I start going through all sorts of ridiculous scenarios in my head and freaking myself out," she admitted. "I'm not really afraid, but I definitely know how to _make_ myself afraid."

"You're quite a woman," he said simply, opening his book again.

"Normally, this would be the part where you'd tell me there's nothing to be afraid of and you'll protect me."

"Hate to tell you, babe, but I don't really have much control over all that." He shrugged his shoulder and she looked at him incredulously. "But if you need anything, you just let me know."

"You're being patronizing."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked with a chuckle. "Go tell the captain to be sure not to crash this one?"

"Luke!" she hissed. "You're supposed to comfort me."

"But see? Now I know this all for the way back, and I can say all the right things."

"I hate you," she mumbled. He leaned over and kissed her temple, somehow never taking his eye off his page.

The engines started whirring and then Peyton flinched a little when they started taxiing down the runway. Lucas took her hand in his, weaving their fingers together. She leaned a little closer to him, and he told her everything would be fine, and that he'd hold her hand for the whole flight if she needed him to.

"You know what might take your mind off it?" he asked softly, leaning over to speak in her ear.

"Hmm?" She looked over at him and saw the twinkle in his eye and the devious smirk on his face, and her jaw dropped. "No."

"Come on. It'll be fun."

"No, it won't."

"How do you know?" he asked. She didn't say anything in response, and his face changed. "You _know_, don't you?"

"Just trust me," she pleaded.

"Who?"

"We go through this every time. I'll start telling the story, you'll freak out and get all stuttery."

"Tell me who," he said, nudging her elbow gently with his.

"I was in a long distance relationship for three years. There were a lot of shared flights," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. He squinted a little bit, clearly not thrilled to hear that his girlfriend had sex in an airplane bathroom with someone else. "Oh, come on. None of your _15 _were in an airplane?"

Oh, she was good. She raised her brow as if to say, _'Don't start judging past relationships'. _He knew that would be her defense for all future conversations on the subject.

"No."

"Stop thinking about it," she said after a moment.

"Hard not to," he mumbled.

"Lucas." He wouldn't look at her, so she placed her palm on his cheek and forced him to. "It was never, ever as good as it is with you."

It was just a whisper, and even he could barely hear her, but hear her he did. He smiled a little and leaned forward and kissed her gently.

She could tell he wanted to go back to reading, but he didn't want to just disregard her after that statement. It was a good one, and he wouldn't brush it off.

"Go ahead," she said knowingly. She winked at him when he smiled at her, and he brushed his lips against hers once more before he opened his book. He loved that she knew him that well

The flight went without incident, though Peyton clutched Lucas' hand so hard that her fingernails left little half moons on his palm when they went through some turbulence.

They went straight from the airport to their first meeting of the day, and while they had both said they hated flying in their business clothes, Lucas definitely loved the way her hips swayed in her skirt as she walked through the airport. He didn't love the way other men looked at her. That was nothing new.

She didn't miss the women eyeing Lucas as they waited at baggage claim. When they stepped into the office they were meeting at, the two girls at the reception desk - and girls they were, neither older than 21 - looked him up and down in that shameless way that young girls were sometimes known to do.

It all went smoothly until the end of the meeting, when the movie's producer started talking music with Peyton in ways that had nothing to do with the movie. Lucas didn't care, until the moment Peyton placed her hand on the man's forearm when she got particularly excited about a singer/songwriter they both knew. He knew he had nothing to worry about.

But rationality wasn't winning out.

He talked on his phone the entire distance from that meeting to their hotel, their work for the day done, and he didn't say anything to her as he held the car door open for her. He barely made eye contact in the elevator, and when she pushed the door to the hotel room open, she let out a huff when he walked past her without touching her or saying a word.

"What?" she asked in frustration.

"Nothing," he said nonchalantly, pulling open his suitcase and reaching for a pair of jeans.

"Luke."

"Nothing. Really." She tilted her head at him and gave him a stony look. "Just seems you're a magnet for charming producer types."

"You're upset about _that_?" she asked with a furrowed brow. "We were talking about music for the movie!"

"He asked you out!" Lucas reminded her.

"It's the Roxy, Lucas. It's not like he propositioned me."

"Whatever."

"Honey," she said, crossing the room to take his hands in hers. "Why are you freaking out? I'm here with you right now."

"Right now?" He furrowed his brow and she rolled her eyes and tipped her head back.

"What's with you?" she demanded. "Ever since we got on the plane, you've been weird."

"And ever since we left New York, you've been...I guess I just didn't realize how much attention you get." She scoffed but he didn't back down, and he put his hands on his hips to show it.

"Why were you more secure before we said we love each other?" she asked seriously.

"I'm not insecure," he said, almost too harshly.

"You're acting insecure."

"I just hate that you're so fucking gorgeous," he admitted. His tone wasn't joking, so she tried her best not to laugh. "Everywhere we go, these men ogle you, and..."

"Lucas, that's all you did for a month and a half," she reminded him.

"You're funny," he said dryly. "You don't see the way people look at you."

"Lucas, every woman who's seen you today has undressed you with her eyes."

"They weren't asking me on dates."

"I didn't accept!" she cried. She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "You think it's easy to be the nobody standing next to _Lucas Scott_?"

"You're not a nobody," he said with a furrowed brow, as though she were crazy for even thinking it.

"I'm nobody compared to you."

"Fuck that. That's...You're...No." She let one corner of her mouth tug upward. She kind of loved it when he got all tongue tied like that. "And don't change the subject."

"I'm not!" she cried. "I'm saying I know what you're feeling."

She was right, he realized. He was acting like a jealous idiot, when he really had no reason to. She was beautiful, and any man would be crazy _not_ to look at her. He'd have to get used to it. Save for that weekend in the Hamptons and that one day in the park, they hadn't been 'out' anywhere together, and this time, they couldn't be _together_, since they were technically working. He supposed he could live with that.

But by the same token, he just wanted to be her man. He wanted to be holding her hand or have his arm around her waist to let other men know that she wasn't to be gawked at. He hated the secrecy they had to live in, and he wondered how long they'd have to do it for.

"Sucks that we're both so damn sexy," he said, and she rolled her eyes and looked away from him.

"Yeah. Sorry I'm not less attractive," she scoffed, making them both laugh. He took her hands in his again and looked down, just like he always did when he was remorseful about something.

"I'm sorry."

"Good."

"That's it?" he asked skeptically. "Good?"

"I don't want to fight with you. I want to order room service and not leave this bed for the rest of the night."

"That sounds good," he said, smiling at her.

"Good?"

"Shut up and kiss me already," he demanded.

"Don't boss me around." She moved closer to him anyway, and they both smiled. "We're colleagues. You're not allowed to be pushy."

"We're not working right now. I can boss you around all I want," he said, a clear teasing lilt in his voice. He pulled her tight against him, and she kissed him hard before he could say another word. She loved the back and forth of their relationship, but she wanted to let him know that he wouldn't be pushing her around.

"By the way," she started, pulling away from him a bit to give him a warning glare, "if you ever pull that shit you did in the boardroom yesterday again, you're seriously going to regret it."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"If you aren't willing to do this, I'll find someone who is?" she quoted. "I almost threw my pen at you."

"I knew that'd get you all riled up," he said, smiling in accomplishment.

"You're not supposed to knowingly piss off your girlfriend."

"You make it so easy sometimes."

"There are _other_ things I could make _not_ so easy," she said, kinking her brow. He raised his hands in defeat as she backed away from him. "Thought so."

Peyton was on the phone with Brooke and sitting at her computer when their dinner arrived. Lucas didn't correct the room service attendant when she referred to Peyton as his wife. Peyton knew Lucas probably thought she hadn't heard, but she had.

She didn't say anything about it either.


	19. Chapter 19

"I fucking hate L.A.," Lucas said harshly as they stepped into the elevator after a meeting with a pompous film producer. "I can't wait to get the hell out of this place. I miss New York. New York does things right. Logically. People know what they're doing, and there's no fu..."

"Hey," she said softly, placing her hand on his forearm. "Can you calm down a little?"

He wasn't sure if she was being patronizing or not, but when he looked at her, she almost looked afraid. It was true, he'd been a little harsh with the man. But the guy had basically wanted to change the entire premise of a novel to make it into a flashier movie, and that was simply something Lucas couldn't sit back and let happen. He had to protect his writers and their work, and he'd do so until the end.

The producer - Shane - hadn't necessarily appreciated Lucas' hard-line stance on the issue. Peyton had to play mediator in the meeting, which definitely wasn't what she'd signed up for.

"Sorry, but...It's like, a million degrees right now, and I really wanted to hit that guy, and if you hadn't been there, I probably would have."

"Well, when we get back to the hotel, you can get out of the three piece suit," she said. It wasn't meant to be an innuendo, but he certainly heard it as one, and she rolled her eyes when she saw the smirk on his face. "Stop it."

"Come on, baby. Relieve my stress," he said enticingly, using that tone of voice she loved.

"Relieve it yourself," she hissed when the doors opened. He laughed and rest his hand at the small of her back to guide her through the doors and out of the lobby of the office building they'd been in all afternoon.

She was walking ahead of them down the sidewalk, and he watched her, clearly not paying attention to him at all. He stopped quickly at a little street vendor selling roses out of a plastic bucket, and tossed the guy a $20 for a bundle of three red roses.

When he caught up to her - he had to jog, which didn't help the heat situation at all - he simply rest his hand on her hip behind her and reached around to hold the roses in front of her.

She stopped walking and turned to face him, and he was wearing that smirk he always wore when he knew he was wooing her.

"What's this for?" she asked, taking the flowers in her hand.

"Just being a nice guy," he said with a shrug. She raised her brow like she didn't believe him, and he rolled his eyes. "I need to relieve my stress somehow, and you just told me to do it alone. Babe, that's just not gonna work for me."

"I'm sure it's worked before." He wanted to laugh at her. He really did.

"When I was young."

"You act like a child sometimes," she said as she resumed walking. "Like when you threaten to make it so a producer never touches another one of our company's books. You might as well just have crossed your arms and said he couldn't come to your birthday party."

"I hate that guy," he mumbled. "And you're changing the subject."

"We're on the clock."

"Fuck the clock," he scoffed. An older woman passing by glared at him, and he just smiled back. Peyton shook her head at him. He really did think he was the most charming man in the world.

"I have work to do."

"Are you just going to keep making excuses? Because I think we both know that I'll still win."

"Win? Is it a game?" she asked incredulously, dodging someone's spilled coffee on the sidewalk.

"A game with a _really_ good prize," he said, leaning down to speak into her ear.

"This feels like two months ago," she said with a laugh. "You trying so hard and me not giving in."

"And who won that round?"

She didn't have a rebuttal, since they both knew the answer. She just shot him a look out of the corner of her eye and stayed silent as they continued walking towards their hotel.

And she realized that she did want to help him. She didn't love that he was making it all about sex, but he'd definitely been tense in that meeting, and she could understand why. He was sticking up for the integrity of his author's work, and she couldn't fault him for that. She actually kind of loved that. She would have done the same thing for one of her artists.

She smelled her roses when she thought he wasn't looking, and he smiled and leaned over to kiss her cheek quickly. She looped her arm through his as they walked through the doors to their hotel, and she yawned when they entered the elevator.

"You're tired," he stated.

"It's been quite a day," she said, knowing he'd hear the hint of accusation in that. "I know we have that reservation, but..."

"We'll cancel."

"It's Patina." It was apparently his favourite restaurant in L.A., and he'd made the reservation the day he planned the trip - before he'd even booked the hotel. "Don't cancel."

"Don't be crazy. You're exhausted. We'll just order in," he said seriously as they stepped onto their floor.

"Luke..."

"Stop."

He swiped the card in the door and pushed it open for her, and she immediately grabbed the vase from next to the mini bar. That was the thing she loved about nice hotels; they had things like vases and complimentary bottled water and little chocolates.

He took off his jacket and draped it over the arm of a chair, and when Peyton stepped out of the bathroom and saw him standing, looking out the window with his hands on his hips, she walked towards him and gently began massaging his shoulders and neck. He hummed from low in his throat and his head lolled to one side.

"You really are tense," she noted, as though she hadn't really believed him before.

"This is helping," he said quietly.

"Let me change, OK?" she asked, kissing the back of his neck quickly. "Put on something comfortable."

He watched her as she unbuttoned her top, and she rolled her eyes. He laughed and started taking off his own shirt. She stepped out of her pants and stood there in just her bra and underwear, looking through her suitcase for something or another. He walked up behind her with just his dress pants on, and he rest his hands on her hips, pulling her back to him.

"You spoil me, you know that?" he said softly.

"I know." He laughed and kissed her bare shoulder. "But only because you spoil me, too."

He stepped away from her as she pulled her navy blue satin nightgown over her head, and he stepped out of his pants and pulled on just a pair of basketball shorts. When he turned and saw her, he could only smile and shake his head. It was an item of clothing he'd never seen, and she just looked down at herself when she saw him staring.

"What?"

"Blue's my favourite colour," he said, smirking at her.

"Is it?"

"Even if it wasn't, it would be now."

He had her blushing again, and he loved it. He could say the dirtiest things and she wouldn't bat an eye, but then he'd say something as simple as that, and it would put colour on her cheeks. He'd pointed it out once, and she just shrugged her shoulder and said, _'I guess I'm just unpredictable'_. He had no argument for that.

She gestured for him to sit on the floor at the end of the bed, and then she sat with her knees on either side of him. He sought out the Yankees game - just starting, because of the time difference - and he smiled like it was the best thing that could have happened.

Then she started rubbing his shoulders again, and he thought _that_ was the best thing that could have happened.

"It was the roses, wasn't it?" he asked during a commercial break.

"What?"

"The roses. That's what got me the massage," he said with confidence. He winced in a good way when her thumb worked a knot between his shoulder blades.

"Sure," she said with a chuckle. "But you should have got a dozen."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm. A dozen would have gotten you something else entirely."

"I have to buy you things to get sex now?" he asked indignantly.

"I wasn't talking about _sex_," she said, raising her brow when he tipped his head back to look at her.

He knew what that meant. He knew that look. He knew that tone of voice. He'd seen it before. Often. He'd tuned into all of it that day in the elevator of their office building. She had a certain special devious glimmer in her eye, and he fucking loved that look.

"I'll go get more," he said jokingly, and they both laughed. She slapped his arm gently, then leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Watch your game, mister," she said, both of them laughing when they realized the double meaning.

She wasn't at all surprised when, after they'd had their dinner delivered and Lucas ordered them a bottle of wine, he said that it was her turn to be pampered a little bit. She insisted she didn't need it, but he wasn't having it. He let her tune into some show he couldn't care less about, and he massaged her back, then her calves, then her feet.

"You know, a girl could get used to all this," she said after a while.

"Yeah?"

"Wine, control of the remote, gorgeous boyfriend tending to her every need," she listed off, making him laugh. She rolled onto her back and he was quick to lay on top of her. "One thing, though."

"What's that?" he asked, looking at her lips.

"Well, you've kind of kept it PG," she said, rolling her eyes and looking away. "Do_ I_ need to buy _you_ roses?"

She giggled when his hand moved beneath her nightgown, and she squirmed a little when his fingertips ran over that one spot on her thigh where they both knew she was ticklish.

"I don't need roses."

"No?"

"Uh uhn," he said, leaning down to kiss her as he gently pushed up the satin she wore. "All you have to do is ask."

"I'm asking."

He just let out a soft laugh, then kissed her like he'd been trying not to all night.

There he was, thinking he had to behave himself, and the whole time she wanted the same thing he did. He should have known. They always seemed to want the same things.

It wasn't until afterward, when she was laying beneath him and trying to catch her breath, that he smirked at her in that way that had her wondering what was going through his head.

"What?"

"I win," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her.

"Yeah," she sighed, letting her hands trail up and down his back. "You win."

----

They got back to New York Friday evening. The sun had just gone down as they drove back into the city, her tucked into his side in the back of a shiny black sedan.

She couldn't help but think that they made a really great team. They'd literally just made the company hundreds of thousands of dollars between the two of them. They balanced each other out during meetings. They kind of balanced each other out all the time, actually. It didn't matter what was going on, he seemed to sooth her, and she seemed to sooth him, and there was nothing better than that, she thought.

"God, I love this city," she said as they crossed the bridge.

"Yeah." He kissed her temple. He'd been talking about it since they left. She hadn't really said anything about it until that moment.

"It feels like..."

"What?" he asked when she didn't finish.

"Home," she said simply. "It has for a while now."

"Has it?"

"Mhmm. Since you," she admitted.

He let out a soft laugh and pulled her closer, tipping her chin up so he could kiss her.

It was things like that, her saying something so simple, but that obviously meant so much, that made him fall head over heels for her. Over and over again. And maybe if she was throwing around those big words like love and home, that meant she was in as deep as he was. Finally. Sure, they'd said they loved each other, but he had still felt, until that moment, that he had felt more for her than she did for him.

"You're kind of remarkable, Peyton Sawyer," he said, speaking just above a whisper.

She didn't say anything. She just wove her fingers with his and let herself rest against him.

This was the love she wanted. It had come in an unlikely person, in an unlikely place, in an unlikely time. But it was what she'd always thought it should be. She felt completely right with him; like all the pieces were in place. And it was crazy to think they'd only been together a short time. She kind of couldn't remember what it was like before him, and if she could remember, she probably wouldn't bother.

"You'll stay, right?" she asked as they turned onto her street.

He contemplated a sarcastic answer, or a suggestive comment, but this little car ride was kind of perfect, and he didn't want to ruin it.

"Of course."

----

He stayed at her place until Sunday evening, and on Saturday night, Lucas and Peyton met up at a very exclusive restaurant with Brooke and Nathan.

And if Peyton was feeling like a nobody before, certainly dining with the Scott brothers, and Brooke Davis didn't help.

But then Lucas draped his arm over the back of her chair, and smiled at her at all the perfect moments, and refilled her water glass when it was getting low. He shared his food and let her steal bites of his creme brulé without giving him bites of her chocolate mousse.

"OK, stop it," Brooke said somewhere during dessert.

"What?" Peyton asked. She'd literally had to shift in her chair to meet her friend's eyes, since she'd been turned towards Lucas.

"You're all cute and...cute," Brooke whined.

"You guys are cute," Peyton insisted.

"The hell we are," Nathan scoffed. "We're...not cute. We're hot. Or haven't you seen the tabloids?"

They all laughed. Certainly, the press was having a field day with the 'new' couple. According to _Us Weekly_, they were engaged and pregnant. _People_ was reporting that the two had met and eloped in Vegas. Another magazine had said their relationship was arranged by Dan Scott as part of a business deal, and and a website posted that Nathan had met Brooke through a blind date. That was actually kind of the closest of all options.

"What are you talking about, man?" Lucas asked, sitting back in his chair. "I thought she was eight months pregnant and your relationship was just a cover because she didn't know who the father was."

"Lucas!" Brooke hissed. "Don't say that out loud, or it'll be in the freaking _Times_ tomorrow!"

"Please, Brooke. You love the drama," Peyton said, waving her fork in the air.

"I do not," Brooke said, pouting. Nathan just laughed and leaned over to kiss her temple.

"See? Cute," Peyton said, and Brooke beamed. "This is fun."

"I know!" Brooke squealed. "I love double dates."

"I've heard," Lucas said with a raised brow, looking between Brooke and Peyton.

"You told him!?" Brooke squealed.

"Told him what?" Nathan asked.

"Our first dates, we went on a double date," Brooke explained.

"Really?" Nathan asked incredulously. "That's so...lame."

"Shut up! It was fun. And they were _cute_," Brooke said, turning back to her dessert. She looked across the table at Peyton and smiled. "You remember Chase? I wonder what ever happened to him."

"Brooke," Peyton said, shaking her head as she glanced at a not-so-thrilled Nathan.

"I didn't mean it like that. I was just curious. You're not curious about any of your exes?" Brooke asked Nathan.

"That's our cue to leave," Lucas said, setting his napkin on the table. "And Nathan? You're paying. Good luck."

"Great. So I get the conversation about exes, _and_ the bill, and you two get to go home and...do whatever," Nathan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sorry, little brother. Had that conversation ages ago," Lucas said as he and Peyton stood from their seats.

"It's not fun," Peyton added. "Good luck!"

"Thanks, guys. Very helpful," Brooke said, shaking her head.

They said their goodbyes, and when Peyton pulled her arm from Lucas' as they waited for a cab, he looked at her like she was crazy.

"What?"

"What's that about?" he asked with a chuckle. "As soon as we're in open air, you're standing 10 feet away from me."

"Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration," she said, making him roll his eyes. "Just...we don't need rumors about us, too."

"I'm the boring one. Nathan's stealing the attention, and I'll fly under the radar," Lucas said, shrugging his shoulder.

"Just...better safe than sorry," she insisted. "Now, am I going to have to show some leg to get a cab, or are you going to work your magic?"

He just laughed at her and leaned over to kiss her temple. He raised his arm, and without him even looking, a cab pulled up. She really didn't know what it was about him, but he was always able to hail a cab when she couldn't. She hated it.

But then he held the door open for her and placed his hand on the small of her back as she stepped forward to get in the car, and she loved it. She loved him. She loved that they didn't have to have that awkward ex-boyfriend/ex-girlfriend conversation all at one time. They'd done it gradually, and she loved that, too.

"Luke," she said that night when they were laying in bed. Her back was to his chest, and his hand was resting on her thigh like it always did.

"Hmm?"

"I like you."

"Good," he laughed. "Because I love you."

"No," she said, turning in his arms so she was facing him. "I mean...I love you. I do. A lot. But I _like_ you. You're...you're pretty great."

He just chuckled and pressed his lips to hers, brushing the hair from her face.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured. "I like you, too."

----

He was walking towards the office on Monday morning after stopping to get a coffee at the little place Peyton had told him about. The sun was out. so he had his sunglasses on. He'd gotten a good night's sleep, and he was happy to go to the office and follow up on all those meetings. He had a quick debriefing scheduled with a couple of his senior editors, but his day was looking pretty good.

He'd just rounded the corner and was walking towards the office building when he saw a man running down the sidewalk at full force, pushing people out of the way and leaving them shouting in his wake.

When Lucas saw Peyton get knocked to the ground, he wasn't sure whether to take off after the jackass that hit her, or take care of his girl.

Of course, he took care of his girl.

He rushed to her side, where another woman was kneeling next to her, and he placed his hand on her cheek.

"Baby, you OK?" he asked worriedly. The stranger stood and walked away, seeing that Peyton was obviously in good hands. Lucas actually thought that woman may have smiled upon hearing him use that term of endearment.

"Yeah," she said weakly. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You're bleeding." He took her hand in his and saw that her palm was scraped, and she winced when she tried to stand. "Peyton..."

"I just twisted my ankle," she said. "I'll be fine."

"It's not swelling. We'll just put some ice on it when we get inside," he said seriously. She smiled at him as he helped her to her feet, letting her rest her weight on him a little bit. "What?"

"We."

"Yes. We," he said, guiding her through the doors and towards the elevator.

It took everything in her not to just lean over to kiss him. It wasn't the place, but she felt it was the time. He seemed so insistent on taking such good care of her. She loved that she had that.

He left her in Mia's capable hands when they got to the office and he was informed that his 9:00 meeting was being pushed up. She could tell he wanted to stay with her, but since they were still trying to keep their office relationship the same as it always had been, she merely thanked him politely for helping her, and he nodded at her like it wasn't killing him to walk away.

He showed up at her apartment that evening with her favourite ice cream, a bouquet of her favourite flowers, and a copy of her favourite movie. They sat together on her sofa, with him propping her foot up on a pillow on his lap, and she told him she kind of liked the 'Knight in Shining Armour' routine.

She also rewarded him for bringing her flowers...


	20. Chapter 20

Lucas was walking into his office the next day with a smile on his face and a cup of coffee in his hands. And how could he not smile after the night he'd had?

And the morning he'd had.

Peyton had woken up well before the alarm went off, then had woken him up by slipping her hand into his shorts. Not a bad wake up call, by any means. They'd had plenty of time, and they skipped breakfast, and she insisted she needed him at least twice before she went to work.

Who in the world would argue with that?

He left when she was in the shower - pulling on the suit, shirt and tie he had at her place - and told her he'd see her later. They had made plans to spend the night at his place and before he left, he pocketed his favourite neglige of hers to take to his. He stuffed it in the glove compartment of his SUV, and he smiled to himself. She was so going to laugh at him later.

But as he was walking past Steve's office to get to his own, he heard his name called. That never meant anything good. Called into the boss' office before you even sit down for the day?

Never good.

"'Morning, Steve," Lucas said, stepping in. He closed the door when Steve gestured for him to.

"You have anything to share?" Steve asked.

"No," Lucas said, putting his hand on his hip. "Why?"

"What's this?"

Lucas saw the newspaper in Steve's hand, and he pulled it towards himself immediately. There it was. A grainy photo of Lucas kneeling at Peyton's side, his hand on her cheek as he looked into her eyes. To Steve's credit, it kind of did look like Lucas was about to kiss her.

He almost smiled. He honestly did. Even in that grainy photo, it was pretty clear that they weren't merely colleagues. He kind of loved that it was that obvious.

"What do you want to hear?" Lucas asked, just an air of arrogance in his tone as he dropped the paper back on the desk. "We're together. We've been together."

He was sure Peyton would be less than impressed that he outed them without her knowledge, but she'd just have to deal with that. As far as everyone knew - Mia and Lucas' assistant, Kristin, were witnesses to Peyton's mild injuries - Peyton had fallen and Lucas had helped her into the building.

He did suddenly think it a little odd that they hadn't yet discussed the 'game plan' for when people found out, or when they'd 'go public'. Sure, they'd had that one argument about it, but they had basically just said that they'd let things happen and deal with it all when it came out. Well, she wasn't around at the moment, so Lucas was making the decisions alone.

"Lucas, you know the rules. The guidelines. They're in place for a reason."

"Well, with all due respect, Steve, if no one knew we were together until this photo was taken, then our relationship obviously isn't a detriment to our work."

"Regardless, the rules are there for a reason. I can't just make an exception because of..." Steve started.

"I'm not asking you to make an exception," Lucas said. "Do what you have to do. But I know for a fact that you can't run this company without me. _Or_ Peyton. And you know that, too. So I'd think long and hard about what you want to do."

"Lucas..." Steve was shaking his head after such a bold statement.

"It's fine. I understand. But the relationship isn't going to be ending any time soon. We're committed and...It's serious," Lucas explained.

"I have to talk with Peyton," Steve said after a moment. "And I'd rather everyone not know."

"We're fine with that," Lucas insisted. "She stumbled and I was helping her up." He gestured to the photo, and Steve merely nodded.

Lucas left Steve's office, and the tagline on that photo was stuck in his head. _"Lucas Scott comes to the rescue of a beautiful stranger. Or is she...?" _

He had to wonder what that last bit meant. Were they not as discreet as they'd thought? Sure, they spent time together outside, since they both refused to live in confinement just because the press liked to talk about him. He wondered if there were other pictures, and they were just waiting for confirmation, or for a story to break, and then everything would be out there for the world to see.

Peyton had just stopped for a paper before she stepped into the office. For the second time in her life, she wanted to pitch a paper across the room. This was bad. Very, very bad.

She walked into her office and closed the door, and she dialed Lucas' cell.

"I just saw you walk in," he said, laughing softly as he pushed his own door closed. "Why are you calling me?"

"Did you see it?" she asked urgently.

"Steve showed me."

"What'd you say!?"

"I told him we're together, and that he should do what he has to do, but you and I are both too important for him to just fire because of something like this," he explained. "And I told him that our relationship has nothing to do with our work."

"Oh," she said. "OK. Good."

"Good?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yes. I'm...I'm kind of tired of all the secrecy. I just want us to be together," she admitted, smiling into the phone. "So whatever happens, happens."

"And you're not freaked out at all that we're probably going to be followed everywhere we go?" he asked.

"No. Let them talk," she said, shrugging her shoulder. "Actually, that's a great song. It's on Harry Connick Jr.'s album, Oh..."

"OK. You're fine," Lucas laughed.

"What?"

"You're already talking about music again like there's nothing wrong."

"There isn't. I've gotta go. I should go see Steve," she explained.

"Want me to come with you?"

"No. I don't need to be seen with you right now, thank you very much," she said, standing from her desk. "I'll talk to you later."

"OK. And stop calling me on my cell at the office," he said with a laugh.

"Shut up. Goodbye."

She heard him chuckling hung up, and when she walked out of her office, she noticed a few people looking her way. She was sure they'd seen the article.

It was actually kind of a sweet photo, she thought. Lucas was looking so attentive and sexy in his suit taking care of her. She was actually almost relieved that it was 'out'. She was sick of having to sneak around, and if she was being honest, they weren't being very sneaky at all. She did find it funny, though, that the one time them interacting outside of the office wasn't necessarily romantic, that was the time they were photographed together.

"Peyton," Steve said simply as she stepped into his office and closed the door behind her.

They had essentially the same conversation that he'd had with Lucas, although Peyton threw in the 'L' word, and she almost laughed when Steve's expression turned to one of shock.

"What?" she asked.

"Lucas Scott in love?"

"Who would have thought, right?" she asked, chuckling.

"Peyton, I'm happy for you. You know that," Steve said sincerely. "And I know it's not my place to critique where you find your men, but...Did you have to do it here?"

"It's not like I planned it. In fact, I ignored him for a long, long time," she explained. "It just...happened. And I understand that it puts you in an awkward position, but the relationship isn't ending any time soon."

"But you still need to maintain a professional relationship," he insisted.

"I know that," she said eagerly. "I know that better than anyone. But...have we not been professional so far? If the only reason you found out is because of a photo printed in the paper, then it can't be affecting us."

"Maybe so, but I can't set this precedent, Peyton," he said sadly.

"So you're going to fire one of your senior VPs over it?" she challenged. "Doesn't sound very logical to me. You don't have anyone to replace either of us. I'm sure that you could find someone, but...Don't you think it'd just be easier if you simply said you were aware of the relationship, and if it becomes a problem, you'll take action?"

"You want me to lie," he stated, raising a brow.

"I want you to do what you think you have to do," she said, knowing Lucas had said the same thing. "But remember that Lucas and I just made the company hundreds of thousands of dollars over the course of three days."

"Peyton..."

"I'm just saying," she said, standing from her seat. "It's not a threat, Steve. It's just something to consider."

"I'll sit with it," he said, and she smiled. He had to smile back. "I appreciate your honesty, Peyton."

"I'm sorry it didn't happen sooner," she told him regrettably.

"And I appreciate that apology, too."

She nodded her head and left, and she could have sworn she heard him sigh as she walked out of his office.

Walking back to her office, she had a feeling that no 'action' would be taken. Steve wouldn't fire either Lucas or Peyton, simply because they were mature adults and they were handling the situation with class and dignity. Steve couldn't argue with that, and she knew he wouldn't try; he'd once told her that arguing with her was always futile, because she always got her way with him. She really hoped this situation wouldn't break that trend.

Lucas was standing and talking to Kristin when Peyton walked through her office door, and she could have sworn she saw him smiling.

It appeared he wasn't being too subtle about anything anymore.

She was starting to like it that way.

----

Steve took three days to make his decision.

In that time, Peyton convinced herself that she was getting fired, and that she'd have to sell her apartment and move to Queens and get a job doing...

Well, she was being a little irrational, to say the least.

"Baby, you're not getting fired," Lucas said for the thousandth time in only a few days, after hearing her say that she'd have to cut back her music spending by hundreds.

"Easy for you to say. You just give that smirk and that stupid...blue eye thing you do, and you'll be fine."

He laughed as he poured her a glass of wine, then stood in front of her with the counter in his kitchen separating them. She'd gone over after dinner with Brooke, and she told him she'd already had a glass of wine. He'd asked her if she wanted another, and she'd said no, but he poured anyway. He didn't want to drink alone.

"What blue eye thing?" he asked in amusement.

"They get all shiny and extra blue when you're being smug. It's annoying," she explained.

"I didn't know that. Is it a good thing?"

"It's...That's not the point!" she cried, making him laugh again. "I really don't understand how you're so at ease about all this."

"Because there's nothing we can do about it short of breaking up, which we aren't doing," he told her. He took her hand and they walked to the living room. "And I mean...I know you're freaking out about losing your job, but not to sound like a completely selfish jerk, I'll be alright if I do."

"Because of Dan."

"There's an inheritance I haven't touched," he explained. "It's been sitting there since I was 18, just growing. And he adds to it every now and again."

"So you have a bank account full of money just sitting there that you have no intentions of ever spending?" she asked incredulously.

"It's...just in case, you know? For the future."

"In case what?"

"In case I start dating an incredible woman who I happen to work with and my job is threatened," he said, making her roll her eyes. "Or for...you know...kids."

"You think about that stuff?" she asked softly, looking down at her glass.

"It's not like I'm getting any younger, Peyton," he said, shrugging one shoulder.

She wanted to laugh. Of course he'd downplay it. But she really did want to know what he thought of the prospect of kids. It wasn't inconceivable that they have this conversation, given that they were deep enough into their relationship to say I love you's and risk their careers. It was pretty clear that they weren't breaking up.

And she had to admit, the thought of a baby with blonde hair and his blue eyes _wasn't_ the most terrifying thing in the world.

"I'm serious," she said.

"I just thought, you know? It'd be nice to not have to worry."

"Luke, it's not like our salaries are a pittance," she told him, and they both smiled.

"I know, but you can never really be too safe," he said rationally. "Kids aren't cheap." She just looked at him and shook her head. "What?"

"I just love that you've thought about all that," she said softly. He let out a quick breath, almost like he was embarrassed, and she leaned over to kiss him. "It's sweet."

"Who would have thought when we first met that we'd be sitting here talking about something like this?" he asked.

She could only shake her head. Certainly not her.

----

They were called in to talk to Steve, and it was all Lucas could do not to place his hand on Peyton's back in that way that always seemed to soothe her. Instead, he just sent her a smile as they waited outside the boss' office, and she took a deep breath before they walked in.

"Good morning," Steve said, pouring from his decanter. "Coffee?"

"Actually, I'm OK with getting right to the point," Peyton said, making both men laugh.

"You know? That doesn't surprise me," Steve said as Lucas and Peyton took seats across from him. "Alright. I've come to a decision that I'm almost certain is the right one."

"Almost certain?" Lucas asked in confusion.

"It remains to be seen," Steve said, and neither Peyton nor Lucas knew what that meant. "You've put me in an incredibly awkward position, here, but I'm sure you know that." Peyton nodded in understanding, but Lucas remained stoic. "I weighed every option, and it felt like losing one of you would mean losing both of you. I could transfer one of you to another office, but the other would follow. I could fire one of you, but the other would resent me."

"So what are you saying?" Lucas asked, leaning forward in his chair. He had a pretty good idea, but he didn't want to just assume anything.

"I'm saying that you're right. You're both too valuable to lose. And if I chose to fire one of you, who would I let go? It just doesn't make sense. Not for the company, and not for either of you," Steve explained.

"Thank you," Peyton said sincerely, almost sighing her relief.

"Don't thank me yet. I'm still wary of how this is going to affect your work, and I really want to believe you when you say that it won't," Steve said, shaking his head. "I just think we all know that this company has too much to risk if one of you is forced to leave."

"Leave?" Lucas inquired.

"If there's a breakup, or..."

"There won't be," Lucas insisted confidently. Peyton had to try really damn hard not to smile at him.

"Either way, I need both of you to promise me here and now that nothing about your relationship is going to be a detriment to this company," Steve said seriously. "I'd put it on paper and make you sign a dotted line, but that would mean the precedent has been officially set, and we all know this isn't a normal situation."

"You need us to actually say that we promise?" Lucas asked with a smirk.

"This isn't a joke," Steve reminded him.

"We promise," Peyton said, throwing Lucas an admonishing glare. Steve laughed softly to himself. They were a real couple, alright.

"And I don't want the other employees to know, if avoidable. I mean, go about your business, but..."

"Steve, we barely ever even talk in the office," Peyton said, though it may have been a little fib. "It won't be a problem."

"Alright. Peyton, I need to speak with Lucas about Chicago next week," Steve said, pulling a file onto his desk.

"Right. Well, thank you," Peyton said, standing from her place.

She shot Lucas a wink when her back was to Steve, and then she walked out the door. She was so damn relieved that neither of them were losing their jobs. Ironically, the one thing she wanted to do - kiss Lucas, repeatedly - was the one thing that might actually get her fired. So she just smiled as she walked back to her office, and when she sat back down at her desk, she realized something else.

Chicago.

Lucas was leaving for a week.

That was going to suck.

----

It was an oddly familiar situation. She was laying on his bed as he packed for his trip, watching as he gathered his things and dropped them into his suitcase for his trip. So far, she'd seen him pack only a few things, and his suits were laid out, waiting to be placed in his garment bag.

"You need me to show you my underwear?" he asked.

She nearly choked on her water.

"Excuse me?" She lowered the book she was reading - _War and Peace_, since she'd never been able to get through it, and he insisted she try - and looked at him in confusion.

"You don't remember," he said, shaking his head. "I can't believe you don't remember."

"I'm sorry. My mind was in the gutter. I thought..."

"You thought I was coming on to you."

"I thought you had better game than that," she said with a laugh.

"You should know my game by now, baby," he said, dropping a few shirts into his bag and moving to sit next to her on the bed.

"I really wouldn't be surprised if you used that line, though." She giggled when his face went blank and he just looked at her. "Oh, please. You so would."

"I would not!" he cried indignantly. "I can't believe you think I would."

"Well, you're just finding it hard to believe a lot of things, now, aren't you?"

"You're patronizing me," he said, squinting at her as she opened her book again. She shrugged her shoulder and focused on the page before her.

"Pack. Your flight leaves in 10 hours," she said distractedly.

He let out a huff and stood, walking away from her without a word. She watched him walk into his closet, and she had to keep herself from laughing. He was all boyish and offended, and he was so damn cute when he got that way. She knew full well he'd proceed to 'ignore' her for the next few minutes, then he'd smirk or wink at her and they'd start a silly conversation about something or another.

"Wait a minute," he said, stepping out from the closet. "You're reading _War and Peace_ and your mind is in the gutter?"

"It's...sort of," she said sheepishly.

"How, exactly?" he asked with a raised brow.

"I need to explain myself?"

"I'm curious."

"I'm not telling," she said defiantly. She turned her page and tried to ignore him, but the page was just merely black and white at that point. The words weren't even legible.

And all because he was standing there staring at her with his hands on his hips.

"Come on, baby. Tell me."

"Lucas, forget it."

"I can't now. I seriously don't know how someone could get turned on reading _War and Peace_," he said.

He sat down next to her again and pulled the book from her hands, setting it on the table next to the bed. He placed his hand over her stomach and rubbed his thumb back and forth, pushing up the fabric of her shirt. She definitely liked that action, and she was sure he knew that.

"I wasn't_ turned on_," she told him. "I was just thinking about how it would sound if you read it. I got a little...sidetracked."

He smirked at her and raised one eyebrow, and she rolled her eyes again. He leaned down and kissed her, and she wanted to remind him that he had hardly packed a thing, but he wasn't really giving her a choice. Or so she would tell herself.

"Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved. That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly," he said, placing kisses to her skin. He was using that tone of his that she loved so much, and her breathing sped up a bit.

"Luke," she whispered. "God...stop."

"You don't really want me to," he told her. She didn't want to argue.

"OK, no," she said, making them both laugh. "But I don't want to be the reason you don't pack and you end up missing your flight."

"I won't miss it," he told her as he lay down on top of her. "And if I did, it'd be worth it."

She quickly told him that she'd make it worth his while if he packed like a good boy, and she laughed when he got off her quickly and finished his task.

And it was worth his while.

He woke up the next morning, a Monday, and he got dressed quietly. He knelt next to her side of the bed and brushed the hair from her face.

"Peyton," he said softly. "Baby, wake up."

"Hmm." Her eyes just barely fluttered open, and she smiled a little when she saw him.

"I've gotta get to the airport," he explained needlessly. "I'll see you in a week."

"A week."

"I know. Seems too long," he said, running his hand up and down her side. "I'll call you when I land, OK?"

"OK. I love you," she said, resting her hand on his cheek.

"I love you," he echoed. "I'll leave keys on the counter. Just lock up when you go."

She nodded sleepily, noting that it was still very dark out, and knowing she'd definitely be going back to sleep once he left. He kissed her gently, letting his lips linger on hers a little bit before pulling away.

She watched him leave the room, and she rolled onto her back, unable to really shake the feeling that she felt far more comfortable than she should have. She was alone in his bed, and when she heard the front door close, she realized she was alone in his apartment. There was a set of keys sitting on the counter for her. It felt a lot like 'their' home, though she was sure it was completely crazy for her to feel that way.

She didn't think she'd be able to get back to sleep after those very serious thoughts, but she just let her hand fall to her stomach, closed her eyes, and tried not to think of how awful that week without him was going to be.


	21. Chapter 21

After two days, Peyton decided she hated Chicago. It had him, and she didn't, and she was jealous of a stupid place. She didn't even think it was possible. Lucas laughed when she told him that, and she all but pouted into the phone, insisting that him being away for a whole week was just mean.

"It's not funny!" she cried. "It's weird without you."

"Now you know how I felt when you went to L.A.," he said with a laugh.

"First of all, that was only five days and all during the week, and we'd basically just had sex a handful of times at that point in our relationship."

"Babe, it was a _hell_ of a lot more than a handful."

"The point _is_," she said, trying to hide her annoyance at his nonchalance, "I am here without you and..."

"Just say you miss me, Peyton," he told her.

"Don't you miss me?" she asked coyly. She heard him let out a breathy laugh and she smiled to herself.

"More than anything."

"Could have fooled me," she mumbled.

"Peyton."

"You're making fun of me!"

"Are you alright?" he asked.

There was something about the tone of her voice and the things that she was saying that had him worried. It wasn't that she missed him - he'd known she would - but there was something almost desperate about the way she was talking to him, and he didn't like it one bit. She just didn't sound like herself.

"I'm fine," she insisted quickly. "Why would you think I'm not fine?"

"You sound a little...stressed," he said delicately, hoping to God he chose the right word to describe her.

"Well, I guess when my normal stress reliever goes off to stupid Chicago, I get a little irritable."

"Is that all I am to you?" he teased.

"If you're not careful."

"Well, I'd love to help you out," he said, knowing she'd hear what he was really saying. "But I'm in the back of a cab right now and it'd be totally inappropriate."

"I didn't ask you to!" she cried, laughing at his insinuation.

"Oh, please," he scoffed. "If I started, you wouldn't stop me."

"What is it with you and phone sex?" she asked.

"You say that like you don't enjoy it."

"Luke!" she hissed. "Don't talk like that in front of a cabbie!"

"He doesn't mind," Lucas said, making her let out a frustrated huff.

"Can't you just pretend you're sick or something and come home early?"

"I've already come close to getting fired once, thank you," he reminded her. "It's just a few more days. I kind of love how much you miss me though."

"Whatever. Call me later," she insisted.

"I will."

"Be naked."

Of course, he'd chosen that moment to take a sip of his water. He damn near spit it out, but he was able to hold it in. Surely, he'd have to leave a massive tip if he'd spit all over his cab driver.

The girl knew how to get a reaction, didn't she?

"I...what?" he choked out.

"You heard me. I love you."

"Yeah," he whispered. "Love you, too."

"Speechless?" she laughed.

"Whose fault is that?" he asked, his voice taking a higher pitch.

"Goodbye, Luke."

He mumbled something that resembled a goodbye and ended the call just as his cab pulled up to the restaurant where he was having dinner with one of the top-selling authors in the country, her husband, manager, and agent, and their wives. This was going to be torture.

But he straightened his tie and turned off his ringer, and he smiled and shook hands when he was led to the table. The seven of them made small talk until they'd ordered a wine, then got right down to business as soon as they each had full glasses.

Lucas closed the deal to sign the author in only a half an hour. It was a personal best. She'd just fulfilled her contract obligation, and had been less than happy with the publishing house she'd been signed to for her previous three novels. Lucas had barely had to break out any charm. They were all impressed by his knowledge of the industry and what his company was prepared to offer.

He excused himself before their after-dinner drinks, and he checked his phone on the way to the men's room. He'd missed three work-related calls, and had one text message from Peyton.

_"It's getting late. If you don't call before 11:00..." _

That wasn't a threat he was particularly fond of.

He was antsy as they drank their port, but he hid it well. It was another hour of talking literature and publishing. When he was asked if he was in a relationship, he bashfully answered that he was, and he received smiles from the three women at the table. There were no subsequent questions, and he was thankful.

He was already thinking about her too much.

He paid the bill using his expense account, and he shook hands and said his goodbyes, promised to be in touch the following week with contracts, and jumped into the first cab he could flag down to head to the hotel. That drive could have been two minutes and it still wouldn't have been fast enough.

By the time he got to his hotel, a mere 10 minutes had passed.

He had her on the phone before he was even in his room, and she laughed through the line. He told her it wasn't fair of her to get him all worked up like that, then put a time restriction on the offer.

She told him it was an empty threat.

Then she told him all she was wearing was, well, nothing.

----

Peyton was sitting in her office Thursday afternoon, pouring over album reports and avoiding phone calls - Mia was such a good call screener. She had the new album by one of the company's artists playing, and she'd kicked off her shoes beneath her desk. It had actually been a good day. Not too busy to be incredibly stressed, but not slow enough to spend all her time thinking about a certain someone.

"Peyton? There's someone here to see you," Mia called over the intercom.

"Send them in," she said without really thinking. She had no idea who it was, and she'd just said to send them in. She wasn't wearing shoes and she had her music on a touch too loudly.

When the door opened and Nathan strolled in with a smile on his face, she actually sighed in relief.

"Happy to see me?" he asked.

"Happy you aren't my boss," she said. He laughed when he saw that she was stuffing her feet into her shoes beneath her desk.

"You almost done for the day?"

"I could be," she said, raising a brow and waiting to see what his offer was going to be.

"Well, I need to get Brooke a birthday present, and..."

"And you don't want to screw it up. Right," she said knowingly, and he nodded. "So you want my help?"

"If you can," he said with a shrug. "What do you get the girl who has everything?"

"Come on." She grabbed her jacket and her bag as she put her computer to sleep and the switched off her lamp. "We're going to Tiffany's"

"Whoa. What?" he asked quickly; worriedly.

"Relax. You're not buying a ring," she laughed.

He just smiled and looked to the floor. He followed her out of her office and listened as she told her assistant she was leaving for the day, and that Mia could leave whenever she liked. Nathan definitely liked Peyton - he certainly knew Lucas did. She was caring and generous while being stubborn and independent. He could relate to that.

Once they were in the elevator, Peyton eyed Nathan, who looked a little anxious. It dawned on her that they'd never hung out one on one.

"Her birthday's in two days. You waited until the last minute," Peyton said.

"I was hoping she'd drop hints."

"She doesn't hint."

"Apparently." They both laughed, and Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. Peyton smiled. Lucas did the same thing when he was nervous.

"Trust me. I know what she wants," Peyton assured him.

"And it's at Tiffany's."

"Yes, it is. I won't even tell her you asked me for help," she said, and he laughed.

"I'd appreciate that," he told her.

They made small talk on the ride down, with Nathan talking about the Yankees' playoff successes, and that he was going to the game that night, so their shopping trip would have to be brief. By the sounds of it, he had little to worry about. Peyton seemed to know her best friend like the back of her hand.

They walked the distance to the jewelry store, but about two blocks away, Peyton stopped in her tracks, making Nathan do the same and look at her in confusion.

"We can't go in there together," she said urgently. He just stared at her for a moment before his eyes went a little wide.

"Oh shit. No. We can't." Their eyes locked and they both laughed. "They'll have me cheating on her with my brother's girlfriend," he added, referring to the media.

"Hang on," she insisted, holding up one finger as she reached for her phone.

He watched, impressed, as she dialed the number for the store, told them she had Nathan Scott coming in, and asking if he could use a back entrance. She as just sweet enough to get her way, and just business-like enough to actually have them believing she was his 'assistant'.

"My assistant?" he asked with a smirk after she'd hung up.

"Aren't I?" she challenged. He laughed again and she told him she'd meet him inside, that she was going through the front entrance.

In the store, Peyton pointed out a few gorgeous diamond bracelets that basically had Brooke's name written all over them, but Nathan pointed out that he hadn't pissed her off. Peyton could only laughed. Deb had really drilled that lesson into those two boys. When Peyton explained that just about any jewelry would do the trick if he pissed Brooke enough to have to win her back with gifts, he laughed, then seriously started looking at the items Peyton was pointing out.

And he had to admit, there were some pretty amazing bracelets there.

He settled on a beautiful, and classic, diamond bracelet, and Peyton had to smile. It was the exact one she would have chosen for Brooke, and Nathan sighed in relief when she told him that. The price tag was ridiculous, but Nathan didn't seem fazed, and when Peyton mentioned it, he simply said money wasn't a problem, and Brooke deserved whatever he could give her.

If Peyton hadn't already approved of her friend's relationship, she certainly would have after that statement.

"Come on. You're coming to the game," he said, hailing a cab once they'd met up on the street again.

"What!? Nathan..."

"Stop it. You helped me. I have an extra ticket, since Luke's out of town. You're coming."

"He'll be jealous," she said, shaking her head at him.

"That I'm spending time with you, yeah. He probably won't care about the game," he said, pulling open the door of the cab for her to slide in.

"I'm going to feel stupid wearing a business suit."

"We'll get you a sweatshirt or something," he said, before telling the cab driver where they were going. "Hot dogs and $10 beers for dinner."

"Healthy," she muttered.

"It's a ballpark. It's all part of the experience. Don't tell me Luke didn't get you a hot dog when he took you to the game."

"He did," she reassured him. "I got the full experience. I thought he was going to break up with me for mentioning the Red Socks."

"You can't mention the Red Socks at a Yankees game!" Nathan said indignantly. Even the cabbie laughed. Apparently everyone knew that little rule but her.

They stopped at one of the stadium shops and Nathan insisted on buying her a sweatshirt, though she told him she really didn't need one. It was him saying that she couldn't go to a playoff game without the right 'gear', and she just rolled her eyes and thanked him. She quickly changed as he grabbed their 'dinner', and then they made their way to their seats.

They watched as A.J. Burnett put in six innings of solid work, helping the home team to a 5-0 lead, then the bullpen came in and closed out the game. Peyton cheered at all the right times, and they sipped their overpriced drinks - beer for him and a soda for her - and shared popcorn. She liked spending time with Nathan. Not just because he was Lucas' brother, or because he was Brooke's boyfriend, but because he was just a cool guy. If there was one thing she'd learned since meeting the Scott brothers, it was that much of the preconceived ideas she'd had about them were completely wrong. The media painted the picture they wanted with little regard for the true stories behind those two men.

The two shared a cab back to Manhattan, and while they were on their way, Lucas called Peyton. She could hear him pouting when she said that she had gone to the game with Nathan. He grumbled when he heard that Nathan had bought Brooke a $15,000 bracelet for her birthday, knowing that he'd have to get Peyton something damn good for her own birthday.

They said goodbye, and he softly said that he was starting to miss her more and more.

Nathan hugged Peyton and thanked her for helping him and hanging out with him, and she went to bed as soon as she was inside her place. She was exhausted from the long day and the excitement.

She woke up in the morning feeling like she hadn't slept at all, then she got a call from Lucas. He couldn't sleep, and he knew what time she woke up, so they had a short conversation when they were both in bed.

"So you haven't gotten your paper yet," he said.

"I haven't moved."

"Right," he said softly. "Well, I bet you didn't know you were cheating on me with Nathan."

"What!?" she almost shouted.

"There's a picture of you two at the game," he explained.

"Fuck."

"Don't worry about it. _The Post_ said something about you bonding with my brother. _In Touch_ says you're the Scott boys' weakness. We're fighting over you, apparently."

"Luke, this is ridiculous," she said in response to his nonchalant - almost amused - demeanor.

"It's no big deal. You're just not used to it," he said. She didn't really appreciate that, for some reason. Hell no, she wasn't used to it. She didn't like people knowing her business.

"It's a big deal to me! I don't want to be seen as some sort of...of hussy."

"Hussy?"

"Luke!"

"Peyton, it'll all be forgotten tomorrow when the Jonas Brothers go out for ice cream or something," he reassured her.

She would have laughed, and maybe she tried, but it came out as a sigh instead.

"I wish you were here," she said softly.

"I know, babe."

"Sunday, right?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Hey, you still have my keys, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Stay at my place tonight," he said, shrugging his shoulder though she couldn't see him.

"What? Why?" she asked.

"Might make you feel better," he told her. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "Really. I guess...I just didn't realize how much I like having you around."

It was an understatement. All of it was.

But he said something sweet, and they exchanged I love yous, and she got ready for her day.

A day she wasn't really sure she could be ready for.

----

She had a meeting that afternoon in an office she hated. Drab walls and boring paintings. It wasn't nearly as inviting as she was used to, but it was an appointment she couldn't get out of, so there she was.

She was just glad the person she was meeting with was a sweetheart. The woman was about Peyton's own age, spoke with tact and compassion, and Peyton made note of all that.

After she left that office, she went straight across town to Lucas' apartment.

He was right. She did feel better just being around his things.

----

She was peacefully tucked into Lucas' bed in her pajamas on and her hands pulled up under her cheek. She loved his bed. She loved his apartment. She loved that it smelled like him - cologne and books, she'd discovered; he'd laughed when she told him. She loved that he knew it would make her feel better.

She didn't feel weird being there without him, either. Sure, the bed felt a little big and lonely, but it was nice to be curled up in his linens for the night.

She didn't hear the door open Saturday morning. She didn't hear the footsteps coming down the hall or see the person come into the room.

It wasn't until she felt someone kiss her cheek that she awoke with a start.

"It's just me," he said soothingly, settling her by placing his hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes and exhaled.

"You're early."

"I missed you."

"You scared me."

"Sorry. I thought it'd be creepy if I was just sleeping next to you when you woke up," he explained and she laughed softly.

He kissed her gently, and her eyes stayed closed. He had missed that.

"Hi," she murmured.

"Hi," he whispered. "Give me a second, OK?"

She nodded sleepily, and he thought she might just drift off again. He wouldn't blame her if she did. He'd just take his place next to her for the first time in what felt like ages, and he'd fall to sleep with her.

But she was awake, and she peeked into the bathroom from her place as he splashed water on his face and brushed his teeth. She loved those simple, routine things he did. She didn't know how even those things were endearing to her, but they were. She watched him unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants when he stepped back into the room, and that was when it really hit her that he wasn't even supposed to be there.

"Why are you early?"

He almost laughed at her groggy questioning, but instead he just slid into bed next to her and lay on his side facing her as she lay on her side facing him.

"My meeting today got cancelled. I got the first flight I could," he said.

"That's why you told me to come here?"

"Yeah."

"Sneaky," she mumbled.

"You're tired. Sleep," he insisted, placing his hand on her upper arm.

She rolled over so she was laying on her other side with her back to him, and he moved a little closer so their bodies were pressed together in his king size bed, and he smiled. It was just barely 5:00 in the morning, and they were both too tired to do anything but sleep. He just kissed her temple before closing his eyes.

When he woke up hours later, he was in bed alone. Not exactly what he expected. He stretched and looked around the room, but he saw that she was nowhere around, so he got up and pulled on a tee shirt before venturing out of the room.

He found her standing in the living room, a glass of water in her hand as she stared out the window.

"Hey," he said softly. She flinched a little, unaware that he was there, then turned around.

"Hi."

"How long have you been up?"

"I dunno. An hour or so," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "I have to tell you something."

"OK, what's up?" he asked nonchalantly, flopping down on the sofa.

She'd expected to be maybe a little more delicate than she ended up being. But of all the things she had thought to say, she always just ended up back at;

"I'm pregnant."

He looked at her with a blank expression as she bit her lip, waiting for his response.

"What?"

"You're going to be a daddy, Lucas."


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** Couldn't leave you hangin'...Well, I could have, but I'm feeling nice.

**----**

_"You're going to be a daddy, Lucas." _

"Preg...Pregnant? With...a baby?"

"That's generally how it works," she said softly. She took his hand, but he stood and started pacing a little, and she had no idea what that meant.

"You're going to have a baby. I'm going to...We're going to have a baby."

"Lucas," she said, reaching for his hand as he passed. She tugged him back to the sofa and he sat next to her again. "Are you...happy?"

"I'm...God...What?" he asked, almost breathlessly. He was in shock. It was adorable if it was a good shock. Not so adorable if it wasn't.

"I need you to find words," she said, half-teasingly.

"I can't...I don't know..."

"OK. I know it's...insane. We've only been together a couple months, and we're not...I mean, I love you and everything, but we're not living together, and we haven't talked about, like, any of this stuff, and..."

"Peyton." He placed his hand on her cheek, immediately comforting her. "Really?" he asked hopefully. There was a sparkle in his eye she'd never seen before, and she loved it.

"Really," she whispered, nodding her head.

He kissed her just as she started crying, and she laughed softly when they pulled apart, in relief more than anything else. She had no idea how he was going to take the news. This, she assumed, was good. Other than the stuttering, he was doing OK.

"How long have you known?" he asked softly.

"I suspected before you left. I just went to the doctor yesterday," she explained.

"Why didn't you tell me you thought you were...pregnant?"

"OK, I _am_ a little scared that you can barely say the word," she said honestly.

"No! It's not...I'm not...I just...it's a lot," he said. She closed her eyes and hung her head. "But I'm _happy_."

"Yeah?" she asked timidly, looking at him again.

"Are you kidding? I...of _course_. I love you. I love...Wow." She laughed a little again, and he shook his head at her. "We're having a baby."

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Are you OK? Do you...I don't know...need me to do anything?"

"Your part's kind of over," she joked, and he smiled and rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. I actually feel kind of normal."

"That's good, right?" he asked skeptically, running his hand over her upper arm.

"Well I'm a fan of the not throwing up," she said, and he laughed. "I was a little nauseous this morning, but it passed pretty quickly."

"OK." He shook his head a little, then rest his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "This is crazy."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What?" he asked, squinting as he pulled away from her. "What are you sorry about?"

"All this. It's...too soon."

"It's soon, but when do we ever do anything the normal way?"

"Steve's going to be mad," she pointed out.

"I don't care," he insisted quickly and very seriously. "Peyton, this is bigger than work, or...It's bigger than everything."

"Technically right now, it's like, an fifteenth of an inch or something." He blew his breath out. That statement made it more real. "But there's a heartbeat now."

"Are you serious?" She nodded again, and that was when she noticed what may have been a tear in his eye. She wasn't sure she'd ever loved him more. "Whoa."

"I don't want to tell anyone. Not until I'm three months," she said. She fully expected him to ask why, but he just nodded. She got the impression he'd do whatever she wanted. "And I really, _really_ want a mushroom omelet and a decaf coffee."

"I see. This is where I come in," he said. He stood from his place, but his hand didn't leave hers, and she stood up to follow him to the kitchen.

She got a disapproving glance when she hoisted herself up onto the counter just like she always did, and she very seriously told him not to start treating her like a china doll. He, in turn, looked at her like she was insane for even suggesting anything of the sort.

He asked her more about her week and her symptoms and how she came to realize she was pregnant, and she answered all his questions. He expertly moved around the kitchen and thanked her for picking up groceries. He smiled when she told him that she had intended to stay there until he was due back in the city, and that she had a few days' worth of clothes in his closet.

"We need books," he said abruptly after they'd finished their breakfast. They were sitting at the table in his kitchen, nursing the last of their juice.

"What, you don't have enough already?"

"Pregnancy books."

"Honey, the internet is so much faster," she reminded him.

"No! Books are how I learn, Peyton," he explained. "We should go today."

"Hmm."

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to go anywhere," she said softly, leaning forward and placing her hand on his thigh. He glanced down, then looked at her with a raised brow. That was one of her signature moves.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were coming on to me."

"I am."

"I thought you said you were tired," he reminded her.

"I'm not anymore." She stood from her place and moved to sit on his lap, feathering her fingers through his hair. "I missed you."

"Are you sure it's OK?" he asked.

"Oh, you _do_ need books," she mumbled. He scowled a little bit, so she kissed him. "Of course it's OK."

"Well, that _was_ what I had planned for this morning."

"Sorry I distracted you," she teased.

"Best...distraction...ever," he said between kisses. His lips found her neck, and she shifted a little in his lap. "We're going to be the pervy parents that make out in the kitchen and gross our kids out."

"Well, we're already halfway there," she said with a laugh.

"More than half." He looked into her eyes and placed his hand over her still-flat stomach, and she just nodded her head gently.

"Come on." She took his hand and stood from her place, and he stood in front of her, pulling her close to him. "The sex is going to be amazing."

He hadn't needed convincing. Really. But he was still curious. He got the feeling it was more than just because it had been nearly a week. And, well, because it was sex, and sex between the two of them was always amazing.

"Why's that?"

"No condom."

"Isn't that what got us here in the first place?" he joked. He laughed a little when she narrowed her eyes at him playfully.

"You can't get pregnant while you're pregnant," she said with a shrug.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this."

"Yeah," she said seductively, grabbing the front of his shirt as she walked backwards towards his bedroom. "You are."

He should have been freaking out. He should have been running in the opposite direction, really. His girlfriend of only a couple months was pregnant with his child, and it wasn't planned, and they worked together, and they didn't live together, and he really had no idea how any of it was going to work.

But he was in love with her. There was no one else in the world he had ever even considered loving in the way that he loved her.

And there was absolutely no one else he could see as the mother of his child.

----

Evidently, Peyton spoke too soon about her lack of morning sickness. Except her morning sickness came in the middle of the day, starting towards the end of the week. She'd have to run to the bathroom often, and everyone looked at her like she was crazy. She insisted she was fine and that she didn't need to go home, but no one really believed her. Each time she passed Lucas' door, he felt absolutely helpless, unable to do anything for her.

He walked into her office on Thursday towards the end of the day and closed the door behind him.

"Hi," he said, handing her the bottle of cold water he'd brought.

"Hey," she managed, smiling at how sweet he was being.

"I hate this," he said softly, walking behind her and rubbing her shoulders soothingly.

"Yes. Clearly it's awful for _you_," she mumbled. She closed her eyes and exhaled, knowing that it wasn't his fault, and she shouldn't take it all out on him. "Sorry."

"It's OK." He leaned down and kissed the crown of her head. "I brought you some Tums. I read that they might help settle your stomach."

"Luke," she whispered, tipping her head back as he set the roll of antacids on her desk. "That's so sweet."

"How are those mood swings?" he asked with a smirk.

"I know. I'm sorry. This is...God, it's weird."

"Weird?"

"I feel...I can't explain it. It's like my body is just...going through all sorts of insane things," she said.

"Well, it is. It's getting used to everything," he reassured her. "I just wish there was more that I could do."

"You're actually kind of perfect." She looked up at him again and he kissed her forehead.

That was normally the moment he'd say something completely egoistical and cocky, maybe just a touch arrogant, but that day, he couldn't find it in him to do it. She was in pain, or at least discomfort, and it wasn't the time to make a bunch of jokes or put the focus on himself.

"I'm not going to the game tonight," he insisted.

"What? Don't be stupid!"

"I'm not," he laughed. "I've not leaving you alone."

"I'll be fine. It's the playoffs. You have to go," she told him sternly. "I won't let you skip it."

"You won't let me?" he asked with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's right."

"Well, can I come over later?"

She stood from her chair and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest.

He was almost certain that was a yes.

"You better," she said softly. "Actually..."

She pulled away from him and reached into her drawer, pulling out a single key on a key ring. She placed it in his palm and smiled up at him.

"Key to your place?" he asked knowingly.

"I'm sure most people do this before having a baby together, but..."

"Babe, I think a lot of people do a lot of things before having a baby together." He leaned down to kiss her and slipped the key into his pocket just as Mia buzzed.

"Peyton, Lucas is with you, right?" Mia asked.

Peyton looked up at him, and he had one brow raised as he waited to see how she'd respond to that question.

"Yes. He is," she said, their eyes locked.

"OK. Kristin has Nathan for him on line 1," Mia explained.

"I'll take it in my office," Lucas chimed in.

He blew her a kiss on his way to the door, and walked out without another word. She was left sitting there, thinking how absolutely adorable it was that he'd brought her something to help with her nausea and taken a few minutes just to rub her shoulders and tend to her a little. She had absolutely no doubts that he'd be an incredible father.

And it was starting to scare her a little bit.

He was amazing and perfect, and she loved that. Of course she did. But it was all soon and they weren't living together, just as she'd pointed out when she first told him. She'd only just given him the key to her apartment.

And honestly, she wasn't sure she was ready to live with him yet. They were doing everything backwards, and she was very well aware of that fact. She loved her place, and as much as she loved his place, too, she wasn't sure if she was ready to give up her personal space yet. It wasn't like Lucas lived in a shack where she wouldn't be able to escape him, but her apartment was the only thing she'd really ever owned. She'd bought it as soon as she had the money, and she had lived there for years, and she loved it. She wasn't sure she could imagine living anywhere else.

She wasn't sure she could see Lucas living anywhere other than his apartment, either. Therein lay the problem. Sure, they could have each sold their apartments and bought a place together, but that seemed like the worst option of all.

She was very well aware, as she sat on her sofa watching the ball game that night, that she was in very far too deep.

She hadn't yet met Dan and Deb, and while her father knew she was dating someone and that it was serious, she wasn't sure how he'd react to finding out she was pregnant and unwed.

She didn't want to get married right away, either.

The really, really scary part about it all - other than the fact that in about seven and a half months, she was going to be a mother - was that she had absolutely no idea what Lucas wanted.

They'd kind of just been trying to get used to the pregnancy information, and hadn't really talked about any of the rest of it.

Again. Things that people should do before they have a baby together.

Lucas stepped into her apartment after the game (he loved using that key) and he heard a sniffle coming from the sofa. He didn't love that so much. And he'd brought her favourite ice cream home, too, knowing she'd been craving it that morning (yes, morning).

"Hi," he said softly, sitting next to her an running his hand through her hair.

"Yankees won," she said through her tears.

"That's not what you're crying over, though."

She took a breath, though it was shakier than she really wanted it to be. It was meant to soothe her, but it just made both she and Lucas more nervous.

"I don't want to get married," she blurted out.

He had no idea where it was coming from or why she was crying or what the hell he was supposed to say in response.

But it felt a little bit like his heart was breaking.

"Alright," he said softly, just because it seemed like the best thing, somehow.

"I mean...I love you, and I want to be with you, and we're going to have this baby together. It's going to have both of us, and I don't want that to ever, _ever_ change, and I want us to be together. I just don't want us to get married," she said quickly, with him nodding as he tried to keep up. "I don't want to marry you just because of this. It's not right, and it wouldn't be...It wouldn't be right."

"OK."

"Maybe...I want to marry you eventually. When...later. But right now..."

"Peyton, I understand," he said, trying not to laugh a little. He knew she wouldn't appreciate it. "It's fine."

"Really? Because I'm freaking out about it. I haven't even met Deb and Dan yet, and you haven't met my dad, and..."

"Babe, It's _fine_," he insisted, pulling her a little closer. "Stop worrying." He kissed her forehead gently, and she let out the breath she'd been holding. "Come to dinner this Sunday. I'll talk to Deb tomorrow."

"Lucas, that's not..."

"It's just one thing to cross off the list," he told her. "We'll do it one thing at a time."

She sighed and nodded as another tear slipped from her eye. She wasn't sure how he had those perfect reassurances. She'd been freaking out for an hour, and he came home and calmed her down in less than ten minutes. She'd rambled on, probably incoherently, and he just held her hand and told her it'd be OK, and made it all really easy to believe.

"Thank you."

"I brought ice cream."

"Ohhh, _that_ is why I love you," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him gently.

He was just about to kiss her a little more, and a little more passionately, when she sprang up from her seat and grabbed the ice cream off the counter and a spoon from the drawer. She opened the carton before she'd even sat down again, and he just looked at her with a raised brow.

"What? I'm not sharing."

"Why not?" he laughed.

"When you have a human growing in your uterus, you can eat all the ice cream you want," she told him, sitting back against the cushion and draping her legs over his.

"Can you say it in a way that's less disgusting?"

"It's not disgusting!"

"Kinda is," he said, chuckling when she scowled and spooned another bite of her treat into her mouth. "And I don't have a uterus."

"Which is why you don't get ice cream. Try to keep up."

She winked at him, and he let out a sigh as he shook his head. She switched her TiVO to the latest episode of Gossip Girl, and he rolled his eyes. He didn't think she'd seen him. He was wrong. She lifted her leg and dropped her heel down onto his thigh, making him yelp and squirm, and she just raised her brow.

He sat quietly for the rest of the night and watched the teenagers on the screen, while the woman who he was absolutely certain was the love of his life fell asleep on the sofa.

----

Dan and Deb lived in an amazing building on Lexington and 87th that Peyton was immediately intimidated by. She had stepped out of Lucas' SUV in the parking garage, but had yet to move her feet. Suddenly her black custom Brooke Davis dress and Gucci shoes even felt like they weren't enough for what she was about to face.

And it wasn't Deb she was worried about.

"Peyton," Lucas said, standing in front of her and taking her hand in his.

"No. I know. I'm fine."

"Not very convincing." He shook his head as he smirked and she sighed dramatically.

"Stupid Brooke going to stupid Toronto when I need her," she mumbled. "Seriously. We were supposed to do this together."

"Nathan's here," he reassured her. "And I'm here."

"You have me, Lucas, OK? I don't need you feeding me lines." She closed her eyes as soon as she'd spoken, and she blew out her breath slowly. "I'm sorry. I'm just nervous and hormonal."

"Don't be nervous," he insisted. "It's just my family."

"Luke!"

"No," he laughed. "I mean it's not a big deal. You know Nathan. Deb already likes you, and I don't really care about Dan's opinion."

"I do," she stated. "Lucas, he's our child's grandfather."

He felt the wind knocked from him. Every time she said something about their child or their baby or their son or daughter, he about lost his mind. There was no sweeter thing than watching her talk about their unborn baby. He was glad they had so long to go; so many months of hearing her talk like that.

"Let's go before I..."

"Before you what?" she asked, an amused smile on her lips as she took a step towards him. She toyed with the material of his tie and looked up at him coyly.

"Don't tease me."

"Don't leave your sentences unfinished."

She moved away from him and started walking towards the elevator to take them upstairs, and he caught up with her, shaking his head all the while, and she slipped her arm through his as they stepped inside. He pulled out his keys and turned one in the elevator lock to give them access to the top floor. Of course, Dan Scott lived in the penthouse of the first building he developed. Of course he did.

They stepped off the elevator and someone immediately took Peyton's jacket from her while a woman she assumed was Deb stepped into the marble tiled foyer to greet her guests.

"Deb, this is Peyton," Lucas said after hugging the older blonde and kissing her cheek.

"Nice to meet you," Peyton managed, keeping herself from glancing around the impressive space long enough for Deb to grab her into a hug. Lucas winked at her over Deb's shoulder, and she did her best not to laugh.

"It's so good to finally meet the woman he talks about all the time," Deb gushed, standing directly in front of Peyton. "And wow, are you beautiful."

"Oh. Thank you," Peyton said timidly.

"Come. Nathan's here already. We'll have drinks before dinner," Deb insisted, ushering Lucas and Peyton into the sitting room.

Nathan stood and shook Lucas' hand like they always did, and then pulled Peyton into an embrace before they all sat down again. Nathan asked Peyton how she'd been, and the two were making idle small talk while Deb rushed around doing something or another.

Lucas sat next to Peyton with his arm draped over the back of the sofa and nodded a thank you when an...attendant? Peyton wasn't sure what to call the staffer...brought him a scotch. She politely requested just a club soda, and Lucas rubbed her back soothingly.

"So where's this girl I'm meeting?" Dan bellowed as he entered the room.

Peyton smiled meekly as the rather intimidating man walked towards her. She stood, knowing it was proper etiquette to do so, and smiled like she was supposed to as she shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, sir."

"Sir? It's Dan," he insisted. He glanced to Lucas and smiled. "She really is something."

"She's hardly said two words," Nathan laughed from his place.

"She's gorgeous, and she called me sir. Better than what I usually get from the girls you two date," Dan said, taking a seat in 'his' chair, observing everyone else in the room.

Peyton wasn't sure if she should be put off by his words, or encouraged.

What she realized very quickly was that aside from being her boyfriend's father, Dan Scott was just like almost every businessman she'd ever met. She knew business men. She could handle businessmen.

And she did. They talked about everything from literature, to music, to real estate, and she could tell by the way he was smiling and sitting back in his chair that he was impressed by her. When she mentioned that she'd bought into one of his buildings? Well, that seemed to seal the deal.

They all moved to the dining room after Deb gave Peyton a tour while the men chatted about baseball or basketball or whatever sport they could think of. Dan and Deb sat on either end of the table with Nathan on one side, and Lucas and Peyton at the other. Nathan and Peyton exchanged a glance, both of them knowing they were missing the same girl that night.

Midway through their entrée, a very delicious pork tenderloin, they were all caught a little off guard.

"So, Peyton," Deb started nonchalantly, "how far along are you?"

Lucas dropped his fork and almost fell out of his chair, Nathan choked on his drink and Dan's face went blank.

"I'm...what?" Peyton asked in a small voice.

"Please, honey," Deb said, placing her hand over Peyton's. "I can tell."

All eyes fell on Peyton, and Lucas' hand found her thigh beneath the table. She felt that might be the reassurance she'd needed to come clean.

"About six weeks," she admitted.

"Really?" Nathan asked, wide eyed.

"Really?" Dan echoed.

And Deb was tearing up and not even bothering to try to hide it.

"So much for not telling anyone," Lucas said, locking eyes with Peyton. She rest her head against his as he leaned against her, and he knew neither of them were upset.

"Congrats, big brother," Nathan said with a wide smile, getting up to walk around the table. He hugged Lucas, then Peyton stood and he hugged her.

Deb stopped crying long enough to hug her step-son and Peyton, and Dan offered firm, yet heartfelt, congratulations to the couple. The five of them spent the rest of the evening talking about names and symptoms of pregnancy, and Peyton had to make Nathan promise up and down on his own first born that he wouldn't say a word to Brooke.

As they drove back to Lucas' place that night, Peyton leaned over and rest her head against Lucas' shoulder. She sighed contentedly as he wove through the streets on the way to his apartment.

"I know," he said.

She didn't need to ask what that meant.

They were both so damn relieved. She was glad he was finally admitting to having had some anxiety about telling people.

She was really glad he'd waited to show any of that to her.

Somehow, family members knowing about the pregnancy made it very, very real. And that wasn't a bad thing.


	23. Chapter 23

Peyton kept reading that later in the pregnancy, her hormones would have her feeling 'insatiable'. That was the word the books used. Or aroused. One book used the word lascivious. Lucas had said that was a great word and he couldn't wait to get to that stage of the pregnancy.

Well, that stage came early. A lot early. Months early. She wasn't even showing yet.

And that stage came with urges so strong that Lucas almost looked a little scared one day when they were sitting in her apartment and she kissed him out of nowhere and took her shirt off in the middle of dinner. He didn't complain. Who would?

They were shopping one day and she told him that if he didn't get her home immediately, she might not talk to him ever again. She was completely serious. She was almost naked before he'd even closed the door to his apartment behind them.

She was in her office one afternoon, shoveling paper and doing tedious tasks, and she saw Lucas walk past her door. He stopped to talk to Kristin, and she could see the way he wore his pants, and how his belt matched his shoes, and the way his hand held his pen, even when he wasn't using it. She loved his hands. She took a deep breath and turned back to her computer to check for new emails she knew weren't there.

A half an hour later, she heard him laughing in his office to someone on the phone, and she couldn't take it anymore. She needed him.

And she was going to have him.

"Hi," she said quietly, clicking the door locked behind her.

"Hey." He eyed her suspiciously; something was off. "You OK?"

"Uh huh."

She walked closer to him, those perfect hips and amazing legs taunting him in his favourite skirt of hers - one that he knew she wouldn't be able to wear for much longer, since it was so tight - and the deep purple top she wore. Her hair was only half up, and done messily, he knew, in a way that must have taken her mere moments to do. She looked incredible, but given her mood swings lately, he didn't think it was a good idea to make the crude comment he wanted to.

"What are you doing?" she asked, moving to stand behind him. She started rubbing his shoulders, then leaned down so her chest was pressing against him.

"Being distracted by you, apparently."

"I love that you catch on so quick."

"Peyton, what's..." He turned his chair around to face her, and she hiked up her skirt so she could straddle his lap. "Whoa."

"We've never done it in the office before," she noted seductively.

"It's 2:30," he reminded her. "After hours in the elevator is one thing, but we can't just..."

She shifted her hips against his as she kissed his neck, and his words were lost completely and replaced by a groan he did his best to stifle.

"Can't just what?" she asked, smirking devilishly as he gripped her hips a little tighter.

"Peyton, this is a bad idea."

"I think it's a pretty good one," she countered. He tried to shake his head, but she kissed him hard on the mouth, making him moan.

"Baby, I love that you want to. Trust me," he insisted. She moved her hips again and kinked her brow, as if to let him know just how much she knew he was telling the truth. "But I'm not doing this."

"If I ask, can you say no?"

"Don't."

"Lucas."

"Don't," he warned her again. His hands were on her ass, though, and she knew he didn't mean the words he was saying.

"Haven't you wanted this since we first started working together?" she murmured into his ear.

She had a point. A damn good one, at that. He had. Of course he had. The first day he saw her walking into her office and sitting at her desk, he wanted to bend her over it and have his way with her. The day he helped her move into the office next to his, when she'd already kicked off her shoes, he thought he was going to make a fool of himself, he wanted her so badly.

Now she was begging for it, and he honestly couldn't deny her. He just couldn't.

"Fuck yes," he admitted before capturing her lips.

He turned his chair back so it was facing his desk, and he stood, setting her down on the surface with her legs wrapped around his waist. She smiled against his lips when his hands tangled in her hair, knowing how much he loved to do that very thing. She tugged at his jacket and laughed when he pulled away to let her push it off his shoulders. He kept kissing her, basically wherever he could, until he noticed that her skirt was hiked up and she wasn't wearing panties. His hand gripped her hip and she giggled when he called her a dirty girl.

She nipped at his bottom lip when his hand traveled over her thigh, and she arched her back a little bit when it reached its destination. She whimpered into his kiss, and he smirked when she spread her legs a little more in anticipation.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" he asked with a smirk as his fingers worked against her. She was already wet, and when she placed her palm low on his stomach, he just grinned at her.

"A while," she managed, how, she wasn't entirely sure. He kissed her neck and she took a sharp breath. "God."

"You have to be quiet."

"You have to be fast."

"I could make you come with my baby finger," he reminded her. She let out a soft moan when he ran his finger over her most sensitive spot.

"Luke," she breathed out, pulling him closer.

"What?" She had a love/hate relationship with the teasing, arrogant tone of voice he was using.

"I don't want this," she insisted, pushing at his hand, which he was clearly not going to stop moving.

"What?" he asked again, a little more confusedly. As resistant as he'd been, stopping now felt like just about the cruelest thing she could do.

That wasn't what she was saying at all, he was pleased to learn.

"I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now."

She'd leaned up to speak into his ear, with only his clothes stopping her from getting exactly what she wanted. She was pressed right up against him, and when she placed her hand over his heart, she smiled up at him after feeling just how fast it was beating.

"I love it when you talk like that."

"I know," she purred. "And I love it when you do what I tell you to."

He laughed softly and ran his hands up the outside of her thighs as he tried to control himself just a little bit. Sure, this was so far from rational that he probably could have just stripped her down and gotten them both off quickly, just from the danger of it alone. But he wasn't going to do that. He wasn't that kind of guy, and she knew it.

"You _have_ to be quiet," he repeated, his tone more insistent.

She just nodded as she reached for his belt, and she kissed him as his hands found her hips. She pushed at the waist of his pants, then broke apart from him as the black fabric fell to the floor. She lay back on his desk, essentially showing him all of her, since her skirt was gathered around her waist.

He stepped towards her and placed one hand on her hip and the other behind her knee, and he pulled her a little closer to the edge of the desk. She was biting her bottom lip like she always did when she wanted it so badly, and it was all he could do not to just enter her roughly and make her moan loudly like he knew she would. But loud wasn't good. They couldn't do loud.

"Come here," he said, though they weren't far apart at all.

She sat up, draping her arm around his shoulder, and she'd no sooner hooked her leg around his hip than he was inside her, kissing her hard to quell the cry that threatened to escape. She tipped her head back once they'd parted and before he started to move, and he kissed the hollow of her throat and whispered her name when she moved her hips just slightly.

She whined when he pulled out, and he grinned as he pushed back into her, looking down to watch them join together. He pulled her closer as he began to move, and she clutched his shirt tightly in her fist at his shoulder blade.

She wasn't sure she'd ever had a sexual encounter so hot. But then, every encounter with Lucas had her thinking that.

He leaned forward just a little bit and reached for something behind her. She turned to see him pushing aside a stack of papers, and they ended up wrinkled and out of order, but he didn't seem to care. He stopped thrusting into her, and she swatted his chest. He just kissed her, his tongue delving into her mouth, and when she tried to rock her hips against his to either torture or encourage him (it could have been either), he broke the kiss and pushed her back on the desk so she was flat on her back. His hands found the underside of her knees, pulling her closer to him, creating an amazing sensation that had them both stifling their satisfied sounds.

"Quit it," she breathed out. He smirked deviously and pulled out, and she would have hit him if she could reach. The girl clearly knew what she wanted. "Fuck off!"

She laughed as she whispered it, and he leaned down to kiss her as he entered her again. She moaned his own name into his mouth, and he thought that might have made him even harder if he hadn't known it an impossibility. He could tell she was trying to be quiet, and she was having a hard time of it. He was pretty proud of that.

As he started a faster pace, she began moving her hands, desperate for something to grasp onto to regain some sort of control over her body. He offered his hand, placing it on the desk next to her hip, and she grabbed onto his wrist, squeezing so tightly she left white marks on his skin.

"Baby, I'm close," she told him after a while.

Yeah, her break was a little longer than 15 minutes. She should have known he couldn't be fast. (Not that she'd ever complain about that).

He slowed his rhythm a little, and she thought he was insane to want to prolong it anymore, but just as she was getting ready to plead with him to just make her come already, he was hitting her harder and deeper than he had yet, and she was saying his name as softly as her mind in that state would allow.

"Luke..."

"Shh."

In any other situation, she'd have gotten mad at him for shushing her.

They were both right there on the edge, and she was holding his wrist even tighter as she raised her other hand over her head to grip desk behind her. Her lips parted as she tipped her head back, and Lucas placed his palm over her mouth as she came, stifling her elated cry. Their eyes locked, and she was still flying when he came into her, his whole body tensing and releasing in that amazing way that always somehow felt new every time he experienced it.

They were both breathless, and he didn't realize he still had his hand over her mouth until she nibbled his palm. He leaned down to kiss her, then moved away from her and sat back in his chair, exhausted and blissed out, as she remained laying on his desk, legs parted and a smile on her face. She'd certainly gotten what she came for.

"Why haven't we ever done that?" she asked softly.

"I don't know."

She sat up, then stood, straightening out her skirt and running her fingers through her hair. She'd definitely need a few minutes to compose herself and let that flushed, thoroughly fucked look leave her face. He stood up in front of her, and she knelt down, looking up at him seductively as she pulled his pants up for him, and he was almost ready to have her again. She tucked him back into his boxers, then tucked his shirt in before zipping his pants and fastening his belt. She grabbed his jacket from where it had been discarded and pulled it up over his arms.

"You know you're fucking incredible, right?" he said, letting one hand lazily fall to her hip.

"Hmm," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him.

"You're sexy as hell." His hand trailed down over her thigh, and she knew she had to leave.

"I want you again," she admitted. "But we can't."

"We just did."

"I'll see you tonight." She pecked his lips one last time, then started towards the door, smoothing out her top as she walked.

"Tease," he said with a smirk.

She turned and raised her brow at him and placed on hand on her hip. "Really?"

"No." He had a boyish smirk on his lips and an accomplished look in his eyes.

"Goodbye. And thank you."

She disappeared into the hallway and tugged the door closed behind her, and he sank back into his chair again.

"Thank you," he said to no one.

Thank you, indeed.

----

The two of them were sitting on the sofa in Lucas' apartment, wrapped up in each other and laughing at the ridiculous comedy that was playing on the television before them. There was a knock at the door, and Lucas looked at Peyton like she was crazy when she stood to answer it. He forced her to sit, then got up and walked to the door, where a very unnerved-looking Nathan was standing. He walked in before being invited, though that was really no surprise.

"What's going on?" Lucas asked in amusement. There weren't many things that could get Nathan so worked up. "You piss her off?"

"You have to tell her," Nathan said, sitting on the coffee table across from Peyton, addressing her and ignoring Lucas. "Every time she brings up your name, I get all nervous and clammy."

"I'll tell her, Nathan, I just need the timing to be right," Peyton insisted.

"You mean when you show up with a kid one day?" he asked in exasperation. Peyton and Lucas couldn't help but laugh.

"I just want to wait until this first bit is over," she explained.

"She's your best friend. And she's gonna dump me if I keep acting like this," Nathan said. Lucas scoffed, but both Peyton and Nathan looked at him incredulously.

"He's not joking," Peyton said, shaking her head. "OK. I'll talk to her."

"Thank you," Nathan sighed out. "I'll leave you to your 27 Dresses. Good call, Luke. Didn't know I had a sister."

"Shut up, man. Like you didn't watch Sleepless in Seattle with Brooke last week," Lucas said, raising his brow.

Nathan rolled his eyes and hugged Peyton quickly and clapped Lucas on the back before walking out of the apartment. Lucas locked the door and grabbed Peyton's chocolate bar off the counter where she'd left it earlier and forgot about, then made his way back over to her. She was visibly worried, and he didn't like that.

"She's going to be happy, Peyton," he reminded her.

"Yeah," she whispered.

She knew Brooke was going to be happy.

But telling her best friend was like telling her sister. She knew they'd both cry and they'd both get really girly about it all, and Peyton was trying to avoid all that. That was probably why she hadn't said anything sooner.

She walked into Brooke's apartment after work the next day, and Nathan was there. She had brought Lucas with her, and Nathan suggested the guys go pick up the dinner he'd just ordered, knowing that there was going to be tears, and he couldn't deal with that. Lucas whispered some reassuring words into Peyton's ear, then was out the door.

"I have news," both girls said at the same time.

"You go," Peyton insisted. Whatever Brooke had to say probably wouldn't be as big as Peyton's news, so she'd fuss over it first, so Brooke wouldn't feel like her news wasn't important.

"Nathan said he loves me," Brooke said quietly, with a private little smile on her lips.

"He did?" Peyton asked, her eyes softening. No man had ever said those words to Brooke. She knew how big it was.

"We were just in bed, and..."

"Whoa," Peyton laughed, holding up her hands.

"OK, no, but good to know where _your_ head's at," Brooke said with a giggle.

Maybe if Lucas hadn't been so sweet on the way over, telling her how gorgeous she looked in her jeans and sweater, she wouldn't have had her head in such a place. And really, she shouldn't have been there after such simple statements from him, but it didn't take much to get her going. She knew he knew as much. She'd make him pay for it later if it didn't mean torturing herself, too.

"We were just laying there, trying to get to sleep, and he pulled me close and kissed my cheek and said it."

"Brooke, that's sweet," Peyton insisted, smiling at her best friend. "Did you say it back?"

"Of course I did," Brooke said. She knew both of them would be recalling that conversation they had before Lucas and Peyton exchanged those words. "And then it got a little X-rated from there. Seriously, Peyton? He's got the most amazing..."

"Stop!" Peyton cried, closing her eyes tightly. "Stop. I don't need to hear that!"

"I'm just saying. Don't you want to know your best friend is _satisfied_?"

"Brooke!"

"What?!" the brunette laughed. "He's just _good_. Like..._damn_ good."

"Stop talking! Stop talking now!" Peyton said, though they were both laughing and breathless.

But Brooke was enjoying watching Peyton squirm, and she wasn't about to stop. She'd never really had any shame about her sex life, so Brook continued on. Sure, maybe since Nathan and Lucas were brothers, it was a little different, but she decided she didn't care.

"Peyton," Brooke said, taking the blonde's hand in hers. "He does this thing with his tongue, that I can't even explain."

"Don't try. Please," Peyton pleaded.

"I'm serious. He hits this place that's like..."

"Brooke! This is the uncle of my child!" Peyton blurted out.

Nathan and Lucas had just opened the door with a box of pizza and some drinks in their hands, and they heard Peyton's outburst and saw Brooke's reaction. Which was a blank stare and a dropped jaw.

"What? You mean like...like someday. In the future. When you are married and stuff and logically decide to get pregnant," Brooke said, though she was almost certain that wasn't what was going on.

"Or like, in seven months when I have a baby with Lucas," Peyton said.

"You're...Really?" Brooke asked, all choked up and trying not to cry. Peyton just nodded her head and Brooke pulled her into a hug.

Nathan and Lucas stood back, wondering when to approach the two crying women, and when the girls pulled apart the men shared a look and walked over to the sofa. Lucas sat next to Peyton, and Nathan stood behind Brooke, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"Wait," Brooke said, narrowing her eyes and looking up at her boyfriend. "You knew, didn't you?"

"I...It was...Sort of, but..." Nathan stuttered.

"We didn't tell him first deliberately. Deb guessed at dinner, and..." Peyton tried to explain.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Brooke asked, kinking her brow at him.

"Um...I love you?" he suggested.

Lucas laughed, and Peyton leaned back against him, and Brooke just rolled her eyes.

"Good answer," she said. "Oh my God. You guys are having a kid. A child. Out of wedlock. You don't live together. You..."

"Brooke," Peyton said, interrupting that whole spiel, "we're figuring it all out."

"But you're not getting married?" Brooke asked, almost in confusion.

"No. I mean...No," Peyton said. "Not...not right now."

"Oh."

"I didn't take you for the kind to care about that sort of thing," Lucas said, looking over at Brooke.

"Well, no. I mean, I don't. But you two are...You're going to get married anyway, right? So why not now?" Brooke asked.

The way she said it made all the sense in the world, and Nathan just shook his head as he sat next to her. Truthfully? He kind of felt the same way about the situation.

They talked about the baby a bit more, and Peyton's symptoms (leaving out a few choice details, of course) and when she found out and how excited they were.

When Lucas buried his hand in Peyton's hair during a point in the evening when Brooke and Nathan were having a hilarious conversation, Peyton's hand fell to his thigh, and she turned to him and leaned in to speak softly.

"Can we go?" she asked, her eyes locking with his.

"Uh huh," he said with a nod, smirking at her. He could decode the looks she was giving him.

They got up and said their goodbyes quickly, and they got a cab to take them the 15 blocks back to her place, just so they could get there faster.

Lucas was really hoping she'd be like this for the entire duration of the pregnancy. He was certainly enjoying it.

----

They were on the sofa at Lucas' apartment one evening, and she was reading one of the dozen pregnancy books Lucas had bought while he poured over a manuscript from one of the company's authors. She was kind of slouched down, her legs stretched out on the coffee table, and Lucas sat with his elbow resting on the arm of the sofa and one leg crossed over the other with his ankle resting on his knee. The apartment was quiet, save for the turning of pages and the ticking of the clock on the mantle, and Peyton kind of loved it that way.

"Am I the best lover you've ever had?" he asked out of nowhere.

"What?" She laughed and turned to look at him, closing her book with her finger marking her page.

"Was there something unclear about the question?"

"Do you honestly need me to answer? Haven't we talked about this before?"

"Yeah. I just like to hear it," he said with a boyish smirk on his lips.

"Why are you thinking about sex right now?"

"I'm basically always thinking about sex," he told her, making her laugh.

"You're definitely the best lover I've ever had," she said, and he smiled a little wider. "I think I make that pretty clear every time we have sex."

"Yeah. You're not exactly quiet." He laughed when she swatted him with her book. "Come on. It's true."

"You love it," she challenged, kinking her brow. He took a deep breath and nodded his head. He did love it. He definitely did.

"Who was the worst?"

"Lucas!"

"What?" he asked innocently, shrugging his shoulder. "I'm curious."

"You're not supposed to ask your pregnant girlfriend about her worst sexual encounter."

"I want to know how much better I am," he managed to say with a straight face.

"It's not enough that you're better, you have to know _how much_ better?" she asked with a laugh. "I'm not indulging you and your ego."

"I _could_ withhold the goods," he said, raising his eyebrow.

She started laughing so hard that her face went red, and he scowled at her. "No you couldn't!"

"I could too!"

"No," she insisted. "There's no way. You would cave within an hour."

"Bullshit. I'm too stubborn," he stated with confidence. "I bet I could go at least a week."

She raised her brow and stared at him, and she was almost certain she was going to win this little bet. She just needed to think of some stakes.

"A week, huh?"

"At least," he repeated.

"Alright," she said enticingly. She leaned a little closer to him, and he was already sucking in a breath. She grinned in accomplishment. "One week. If you win, I'll give in to your biggest fantasy."

"Fuck," he whispered. He wanted that fantasy right then and there. Screw one week. What the hell was he thinking?

"Whatever you want, no matter what, I'll do it," she continued, placing her hand on his thigh, far too high.

She was trying to 'win' already, and she was getting pretty fucking close to it, if he was being honest. If she moved her hand a little higher...

"Stop," he demanded gruffly, taking her hand in his. "And if you win?"

"You mean _when_ I win?" she asked with a smug smile.

"_If_."

"Well, my office fantasy was already fulfilled, so..."

"God, that was hot," he admitted quietly, weaving his fingers through hers.

"Mhmm," she said, picking up her book again.

She knew that was going to be a fun game. Sure, it'd suck for her to not be with him for a week, but she knew it'd be a lot more difficult for him than it would be for her. And given the way he was already looking at her - like he wanted to tear her clothes off and take her right there on his sofa - she was certain she'd have a great time teasing him.

"Wait. So either way, if we go a week, I get to have crazy fantasy sex with you?" he asked in amusement. "I don't really consider that losing. And honestly, if I end up giving in, I get sex then, too. I'm not seeing how this ends badly."

He had a point. He hadn't made it quite as eloquently as he could have, but he definitely had a point.

"Isn't it just the principle of it all?" she asked. "Don't you just want to prove that you can do it?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"And now that you've said you can, you can't back down from that. You don't want to give in, do you Lucas? You don't want me to think you can't keep your promises, do you?" she asked, her voice growing in intensity with each question.

"Little drastic, aren't you?"

She stood, leaning over just that little bit so he could see down her shirt, and ran her fingers through his hair as she walked past him.

"Don't give in, Luke," she said seductively, very well aware that the shorts she was wearing were making him stare at her legs. "This whole 'confidence in your ability to resist me' thing is actually kinda sexy."

He seriously considered locking himself in his library and sleeping in there, far away from her, for the night.

After a cold shower.


	24. Chapter 24

"What about Gavin?" she asked abruptly as she moved around her bedroom, picking up dirty clothes.

"Gavin who?"

"For the baby!" She laughed and shook her head. They both kept saying they still hadn't gotten used to the news yet, and they'd laugh together every time something like this happened.

"Oh. No."

"What? Why?" she asked, putting her hand on her hip.

"_Gavin_? No. My child will not be named Gavin," he insisted, tucking the new sheets beneath the mattress, changing the linens like she asked him to.

She hadn't appreciated when he'd mumbled under his breath that their sheets must be pretty clean anyway. But she had kinked her brow and told him it had only been a day, and that certainly he wasn't about to give in so easily. He let out a huff and went to her linen closet and started doing what she'd asked. If she kept making comments like that about his resolve, he could definitely make it to a week. His pride wouldn't let him give in.

"Why not? I like it," she said seriously. "Gavin Scott."

"Scott?" he asked quietly, a little smile on his lips.

"Well...yeah," she said in confusion. "It's your child, Lucas. Of course he'll have your name."

He kissed her quickly on the lips, then the forehead before they each went back to their chores.

"But he won't have the name Gavin," he said with a laugh. "And it could be a girl."

"What do you think of Sadie?" she asked, calling out from the bathroom.

"Sadie Scott." Their eyes locked when she walked back into the bedroom and they both laughed and shook their heads in the negative. That was a definite no.

"Jason?"

"No."

"Ugh!" she groaned in frustration. "You suck at this game."

"Because you like bad names and I don't want our baby to have one?" he suggested.

"Jason is not a bad name!"

"It's just not right." He shrugged his shoulder and she rolled her eyes. "Not for my son."

He said the last bit softly, and the way he was looking at her made her feel absolutely full of love and admiration. He was looking at her like she was giving him the most amazing gift. _His_ son or _his_ daughter. His child. _Their_ child.

She bit the inside of her lip but her eyes still welled with tears anyway, and then he was looking at her in confusion, wondering what had set her off.

"Peyton..."

"No. I'm fine," she said with a teary laugh. "You just looked at me like that and...We're having a baby, and it's..."

"Hey," he said, reaching for her wrist so she could sit next to him on the freshly made bed. "If you really want the name Jason..."

She swatted his chest because he was joking, and she loved that he was trying to cheer her up. And it wasn't that she was sad; she really, really wasn't.

"See, normally, this would be the time when I'd try to seduce you to take your mind off it," he said seriously, making her laugh a little harder as he wiped her cheeks. "But you've got this silly game going on."

"It's not silly," she insisted. "And you started it. I just want to see if you can finish it."

"I can."

"Sure you can," she said, winking at him as she patted his cheek softly.

He hated it when she was patronizing. Especially about this.

She tried to stand, but he pulled her back to him so she landed on the bed, then he moved so he was hovering over her, his lips just millimeters from hers.

She loved it when he took charge like that, and he knew it. Their relationship was pretty even in that regard, but any time he took the initiative (which was often) to throw her down and tell her exactly what he was going to do to her, her breathing would go all uneven, and she had a secret little smile she'd use.

Both those things were happening, and Lucas smirked in accomplishment. He could make her a little - or a lot - unglued, too.

"Can you?" he asked.

"Can I what?" she breathed out, trying really hard to not just kiss him. She knew that was exactly what he wanted.

"One week." He pressed a few feather light kisses to her cheek and jaw, and she let out a little whimper. "Can you?"

"Uh huh."

"You sure?" he asked in amusement.

"Get off me," she insisted.

"No."

"I know what you're doing," she said seriously. "Get off me. I'm not going to cave."

He pressed himself into her a little more, and she arched her back a bit. "You sure?" he repeated.

"You want to start this? Really? Because I'm definitely a better tease than you are." She raised her brow as she said it, and she smirked when his face changed, letting her know that he knew she was right. "Get off."

"I thought the point of all this was that I won't be," he grumbled, rolling off her and onto his back.

"You can. Just not with me," she said jokingly. "Or anyone else!" she amended immediately. That wasn't what she meant.

"Please. As if I'd sleep with anyone else," he said, as though that were just the most absurd notion in the world. "After you? No."

She was standing at the side of the bed, smiling down at him as he spoke, and upon hearing those words, she nudged his knees apart and stood between his legs. He sat up, almost out of instinct, and put his hands on her hips.

"Is that your way of saying I'm the best you've ever had?" she asked with a cheeky smile, reminiscent of their conversation just the day earlier.

"You need me to confirm it?" She shrugged her shoulder innocently and feathered her hands through his hair, making him close his eyes; he loved that action. "By far."

"Really? Or are you just saying that to appease me?"

"Really."

He pushed up the fabric of the cotton tee shirt she was wearing and placed a sweet, innocent kiss to her stomach, just above the waist of her jeans.

She almost cried again. Her man could go from sexy to sweet in the blink of an eye. She wouldn't have it any other way.

----

She walked into his office the next day with a pad of paper in her hands, a serious look on her face, and a pen between her lips. He smiled and sat back in his chair. She looked so hot when she was concentrating so hard.

It had been two days. Only two days. He was having flashbacks to the week before when she barged into his office and demanded he give her what she wanted. He didn't think the same thing was happening now, but he could certainly dream, couldn't he?

"Miss Sawyer," he said with a smirk. "What can I do for you?"

"What do you think of traditional?"

"Traditional for what?" he asked, eyeing her as she stood in front of his desk. She didn't take her eyes off her page, and he was definitely amused by her serious demeanor.

"For a name."

"Peyton, we've got months," he reminded her with a chuckle. "And it's good to know you're working hard today."

"Whatever! You've been IM-ing me all day," she said, making him shrug one shoulder.

"Traditional how?"

"Like James, Charles, Jack, Samuel."

"Not Samuel."

"OK. But do you..."

"Peyton, baby, I love you," he started, standing from his chair and walking towards her. "But you think maybe you're just using this whole name thing to distract you from the fact that we can't have sex?"

"No!" she said with a laugh. "You're such an ass! Not everything is about sex!"

"I know you," he insisted. "You're deflecting."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"So when I messaged you earlier and told you I couldn't stop thinking about feeling you naked beneath me, that didn't affect you at all?" he asked in that tone of voice she loved.

"You could stop," she said, her tone just this side of angry. "You're going to get yourself all worked up. Then you'll have to...take matters into your own hands."

"If I keep talking, will you have to do the same?" he asked gruffly, taking her in his arms. "Because _that_ could be _a lot_ of fun."

"I'm going." She wrenched herself from his hold, and he laughed at the colour on her cheeks and the way she was trying not to look affected by him. She clearly was, though.

"Hey," he said, grabbing her wrist. "How come you don't have any girls' names?"

"I'm getting there. And I just think we'll probably have a boy."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," she murmured, looking at her list.

"Benjamin?" he asked, glancing down at her page.

"I've always loved that name," she said softly.

"Me too."

"Really?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah," he said, nodding his head. "Benjamin Scott."

"That sounds good."

"Benjamin Sawyer Scott," he said, almost whispering as he ran his thumb back and forth over the side of her stomach.

"Sawyer?"

"For his middle name."

She let out a breath and smiled at him. That was a beautiful sentiment and she loved that he wanted their child to have her namesake. She knew her father would appreciate that, too.

"I love you," was her only response.

----

Lucas was laying on Peyton's bed in his slacks and button down shirt and tie, waiting for Peyton to finish getting ready for a night out that he wasn't necessarily looking forward to.

Brooke had planned this cocktail party at her apartment ages ago, and of course, Lucas and Peyton were the first to be invited. Lucas wasn't sure what the occasion was, and when he asked, he was met with Brooke's blank stare and Peyton's laugh. Brooke told him they didn't need a reason to have cocktails and good food and good company. He couldn't really argue.

"You almost ready?" he asked, tossing his basketball up and down repeatedly.

"No."

"What's taking so long?"

"I'm a girl," she answered, like that explained everything.

"You always look hot. Can we get a move on, here?"

"Don't rush me!"

"I'm starving," he complained.

"We ate an hour ago!" she laughed at him. "Fuck!"

"Whoa. Don't curse at me," he said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"I'm not cursing at _you_. I'm _showing_."

"No you aren't," he scoffed.

"Yes I am! My dress barely zips, and you can see my belly!" She walked out of the closet wearing a navy blue dress that did, indeed make her tiny little belly, hardly a bump to see, show.

"Wow," he whispered, smiling at her. "Is it wrong that I love this?" He placed his hand over her stomach and shook his head. He may never have seen her look so amazing.

"It's not wrong," she said softly. "Do I look OK though?"

"Beautiful."

"I'm serious."

"So am I," he insisted. "You look gorgeous. And no one else will know."

"We'll know." She smiled at him and he nodded his head and kissed her gently. "OK. Just let me do my hair and I'll be out in like, 20 minutes."

"Peyton," he groaned as she walked away.

"Have a snack and quit complaining!" she called back, laughing at his impatience.

He did that very thing. He had his hand tucked into a bag of potato chips, standing in the kitchen, when she walked out all put together and made up. She looked amazing, of course, but she could have worn ripped jeans and one of his tee shirts and looked incredible.

He washed his hands quickly, then kissed her and murmured - repeatedly - how great she looked, then they left her apartment to get into his SUV. She fidgeted with her dress, placing her hand over her stomach self-consciously, and he took her hand in his, smiling at her in a way that let her know that she had nothing to be self-conscious about; she was beautiful, and she had nothing to hide, because she was carrying their baby and that was just a wonderful thing.

"Thank you," she said. "For understanding."

She had leaned across the seat to speak into his ear, and she kissed the hinge of his jaw, and he had to take a deep breath.

"You know, if we didn't have this silly wager going on, we could make this drive more interesting," she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

"How interesting?"

"You sure you want me to tell you? It might have you wanting to give in," she said.

"Tell me," he commanded.

"Well, remember that day?" she asked, and he just turned to her with an incredulous look, begging for more detail. "After the elevator."

"You're trying to kill me. Don't bring that up."

"Is it bringing something else up?" she asked with a laugh.

"You're evil. Evil woman," he said with disdain.

"You remember that car ride to my place?"

"Vaguely. I remember your hand on my..."

"It was not!" she interrupted. "You wanted it to be though. That's kind of what I'm getting at."

"You wouldn't. I think you were bluffing."

"You want to test that theory?" she asked, leaning over to speak into his ear seductively.

And then her hand was on him over his pants, and she found he was already hard, just from their little conversation. He held the wheel a little tighter and took a deep breath, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her to stop.

"This doesn't count as sex," he insisted, hoping she'd agree with him.

"Yes it does. It's a sex act."

"Those parameters weren't set on the day of the wager. You can't set them now."

"My hand is on your cock, Lucas. I think I can do just about whatever I want," she told him. She never spoke like that. Ever. She was doing it just to torture him.

And what she had said was exactly true. She really could do whatever she wanted, regardless of where her hand was or what it was doing to him.

"Stop," he said, though it fucking killed him to do it. She continued her ministrations, and he swatted her hand away with his own, and pushed her by the shoulder back to her side of the vehicle. "And stay over there."

"You're going to need a little alone time," she giggled. "Have fun explaining that to Brooke."

"Why are you doing this?" he groaned. It was almost a whine. This stupid bet was an awful idea, and he was regretting ever agreeing to it.

"Because it's so fun to watch you squirm," she said, laughing when he glared at her.

"I don't hate you," he started. "But you're really pissing me off with all this."

"Aww," she said patronizingly, sticking out her bottom lip. "Lukey can't finish what he started."

"I'm too stubborn to give in. I won't do it."

"And I'm having way too much fun with this to stop teasing you." She turned to him and raised her brow. "So I guess we're both screwed." She started laughing again. "Or not."

He glared at her and turned up the radio, and promptly ignored her for the rest of the drive, while she laughed at the scowl on his face and the irritated way he was turned away from her just a little bit.

When he helped her out of the car after parking at Brooke's building, she leaned up to kiss him quickly, apologized for teasing him, then walked away from him. She had to know that her dress and her heels were just as torturous as he actions in the car.

They spent their evening mostly apart, being pulled into separate conversations. Deb and Dan were there, and a few of Brooke's senior employees. Mutual friends and many of New York's elite socialites were in attendance, and all of them commented to Lucas about the girl he'd managed to snag. He would just laugh and say that he couldn't really comprehend it, either.

She caught his eye across the room and they smiled at each other. She saw him check the clock a few times, and when they met up in the kitchen when most of the guests were gone, only Brooke and Nathan were in the room with them. Peyton laughed and asked Lucas what he was in such a hurry to get home for. Unspoken was that they'd just be going to sleep and he wouldn't get what they both knew he was already dying for. He glared at her and made her laugh.

"What's going on?" Brooke asked, laughing at the annoyed look on Lucas' face.

"Don't," Lucas insisted, looking at Peyton.

"Nothing," Peyton said.

"Bullshit," Nathan interjected. "What's up? All night, you two have looked like you want to fuck each other."

"Nathan!" Brooke cried in horror. "God. Have some tact."

"What?" Nathan asked innocently, shrugging his shoulder. "Come on. Spill."

"We've got a little...wager going on," Peyton explained delicately.

"A wager?" Brooke questioned.

"He said he could go a week -_ at least _- without sex," Peyton said, accenting those two words he'd been so insistent upon. She looked at him as she spoke, and he set his jaw.

"Sucks for you, Peyton, since you're basically always _on_ these days," Brooke laughed.

It was Lucas' turn to look at Peyton smugly, knowing that Brooke was right and hoping that Peyton was aching for it as much as he was.

"Why the _hell_ would you agree to that?" Nathan asked, taking a sip of his scotch.

"She challenged me!" Lucas claimed. "She said I couldn't do it. I have to prove I can."

"But you lose either way," Nathan said. "No sex? I wouldn't agree to that."

"You don't know the stakes," Lucas mumbled, eyeing Peyton hungrily.

"Luke," Peyton hissed.

"Well, what are the stakes?" Brooke asked with her brow kinked.

"She'll fulfill my biggest fantasy," Lucas said before Peyton could stop him. Her face went red and he draped his arm around her shoulder to pull her close.

"Hot," Brooke said, nodding in appreciation. "And what is that, exactly?"

"No!" Peyton intervened. "I don't even know what it is yet."

"Come on, Peyton," Brooke scoffed. "Don't be a prude."

"Oh, she's not," Lucas mumbled, making them all laugh.

"Nathan knows mine," Brooke said, shrugging one shoulder. "Naughty schoolgirl."

"Can you find a skirt to fit him?" Peyton teased.

"Ew!" Brooke giggled. Both men just shook their heads.

"You realize Dan and Deb are in the next room," Peyton pointed out.

"They left, like an hour ago," Lucas pointed out. "This is an interesting conversation."

"It's disturbing. And I don't want to know these details of their sex life," Peyton said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're just jealous that we actually _have_ a sex life," Nathan said, smirking when Peyton glared at him. "Come on. Don't you want to know what you're going to have to do?"

"I won't have to do it!" Peyton proclaimed. "Because there's no way he's going to make it a week. He almost pulled over the car on the way here and had me in the back seat." Lucas inhaled a breath, wondering if he really could have done that thing. "Which, incidentally, might just be one of my fantasies."

"Fuck," Lucas muttered. "You need to stop this."

"Just say when, baby," she said, running her hand down his spine and along the back of his pants.

"If we leave right now, are you going to have sex in my kitchen?" Brooke asked.

"Hey! That's one of my fantasies," Nathan said with a laugh.

"Check that one off the list," Brooke said, winking at her boyfriend, who was smiling proudly.

"OK, ew," Peyton said, moving away from the surface she'd been leaning against.

They all talked a little bit longer, then Brooke said goodbye to the rest of her guests. When Peyton yawned and leaned against Lucas a little bit, Brooke insisted they go so Peyton could get some sleep.

Lucas unzipped her dress for her once they were back at her apartment, and she unpinned her hair after she'd changed into her pajamas. She crawled into bed next to him and apologized for teasing him, and he just laughed and said that he actually kind of enjoyed the little game they were playing. She kissed him, and he heard her say that she actually hated it. He was sure she hadn't wanted him to hear her.

He was scared out of his mind when she shook him awake at nearly 4:00 in the morning. It was almost pitch black, and he was groggy, and his first thought was an awful one.

"What?" he asked. "What's wrong? Are you OK?"

"Yeah. I just...I need to know."

"Know what, sweetheart?" he asked, running his hand up and down her arm as she sat, looking down at him.

"What it is. Your fantasy."

"You woke me up at 4:00 a.m. to ask me what my fantasy is, and you're not going to let me do it?"

"Well, you're pretty insistent that you're going to win, so..."

"Peyton, just go back to sleep. If I win, I'll let you know."

"_If_? It's _if_ now?" she asked.

"If you keep waking me up and asking me what my fantasies are, it is," he said, making her laugh.

"It's nothing gross, is it?" she asked. "Like...weird or anything..."

"Babe, would I make you do anything gross? Come on."

"This is going to drive me crazy," she mumbled as she fell back into his arms again.

"Well, you could try to guess, but it might get you all hot for me," he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I already am."

"Don't tell me that."

"You gonna do something about it?" she asked sleepily.

"No," he insisted. "But I'll want to."

She didn't say it, she wouldn't, but she definitely would have wanted him to.

Four more days.

What the hell was she thinking, making this challenge? She was honestly starting to think that she was having a harder time getting through it than he was.


	25. Chapter 25

"No," she mumbled.

"Peyton, you have to get up," he said for the third time after nudging her gently again.

"_No_."

"What do I have to do to get you out of bed?" he murmured, leaning towards her a little bit more and smirking at her. Her eyes were still closed and she'd swat his hand any time he touched her.

"Go away."

Drastic times called for drastic measures. He tugged back the sheets and laughed when she whined, and he dipped his hand below the waistband of the pajama pants she was wearing.

"Mmm."

"You should get up," he said as his fingers danced closer to where they both knew she wanted them.

"Not now," she purred.

"Really? You give?" He was smirking when she opened her eyes, then she was swatting his hand and jumping up from the bed.

"Jackass!"

"I had to get you up somehow," he said, shrugging his shoulder.

"Oh, you are _so_ going to pay for that," she mumbled as she glared at him.

"We have to go to work," he reminded her. He was finding it very hard not to laugh at her.

"Fine. I'm going to shower," she said, walking to the bathroom.

"If you're not out in 10 minutes, I'm coming in to make sure you're not doing anything obscene with the shower head!"

"I locked it!" she said through the door. He heard him groan, and she laughed as she turned the water on. She loved that he thought he could tease her, and she could turn it right around on him.

She took a few extra minutes, just to make him sweat a little bit, and she knew damn well that he would be sitting in her kitchen, his mind racing as he wondered what exactly she was doing in there.

When she emerged from the bedroom, all dressed and put together in a charcoal grey suit and black shirt, she saw him sitting at the table, wearing a remarkably similar ensemble.

"Go change!" she insisted. He hadn't even looked up from his paper yet.

OK, so he was definitely faking that he was reading it - he wasn't, he just wanted to make it look like he hadn't spent the entire time thinking about her naked in the shower and... Yeah.

"Why?" he asked, finally lowering the page to look at her. "Seriously?"

"_Why_ are you wearing that?" she asked incredulously.

"I didn't think going to work naked was a good idea."

"Lucas!"

"Why do I have to change?" he asked. "You're the one with the full closet."

"This is the only suit I have that fits me the way I want it to, and it's comfortable. And if I have to change, not only will it take an hour to find something, but I'll probably cry when my pants don't zip. Are you trying to make me cry, Lucas? Is that what you want?"

He could only stare at her and blink. He really wasn't sure if she was serious or not. He didn't want to find out.

"All I have here is a black suit," he told her as he stood from the table.

"Black on black," she murmured, grabbing his black silk tie. "Sexy."

Damn mood swings.

"Careful."

"I don't want to go to work." She slipped her arms beneath his jacket and wrapped them around his torso, and he took a breath when he felt her all pressed up against him.

"Even if we stay here, we can't do that."

"Do what?" she asked, pulling away from him.

"What we always do when you start acting like this," he said, raising his brow. "You get that look and I'm helpless."

"Helpless?" she asked with a smirk. "Oh, _really_?"

"Don't."

"Go change."

"Let go of me," he demanded.

"You don't want me to," she said. She was right, of course.

"No. But if you don't let me go, we'll be late for work."

"How close are you to caving right now?"

"Not close at all," he said with a smirk. "I just can't drive us anywhere with you attached to me."

"Fine," she mumbled, moving away from him to grab a yogurt and some fruit for breakfast.

She heard him laughing as he walked back down the hall, and she mumbled a curse. Truthfully, she would have been just fine with calling in sick that day and staying in bed with him, their stupid bet be damned. She was starting to think that it was stupid to give up sex just on principle alone, and she didn't want to resent Lucas for agreeing to it. She did, however, think that she could probably pull a few tricks from her sleeve to get him to cave.

She was going to start having fun.

----

She called Brooke that morning, and each of them miraculously had breaks in their schedules that afternoon, so they decided to have a 'meeting' about 'wardrobe' for one of Peyton's 'artists'.

What that really meant was that they were going to sip lattés and walk around their favourite stores and gossip and laugh. Peyton didn't ever really feel bad about that at all.

"Mia, I'm out for the afternoon," Peyton announced, stepping out of her office.

"Peyton!" Lucas' voice came. "Can I see you for a second?"

She rolled her eyes and checked the clock, and none of it was dramatics. She was meeting Brooke in 15 minutes, and of course, that was the moment Lucas chose to pay attention to her. Something he hadn't done all day. She didn't want to be annoyed by that, and she wasn't really. They had both been busy. She missed him, though.

"Yes?" she asked from the doorway with her arms crossed.

"Close the door please," he said without looking up from his papers.

She loved and hated that he did this to her. On one hand, she thought that authoritative, don't-fuck-with-me business-like attitude was sexy as hell. On the other hand, she was his girlfriend and he didn't need to use it with her.

But she did as he asked.

"Where are you going with my child?" he asked, dropping his pen and looking up at her.

"None of your business," she stated, kinking her brow.

"The hell it's not," he said, very seriously.

"I'm meeting with a designer regarding some...future projects." She managed to say it with a straight face, somehow. Only she knew what those _future projects_ were.

"A designer. Is this personal, or work-related?" he asked with a smirk. He knew who the designer was. He wanted to know what kind of clothing she was talking about.

"None of your business," she repeated, putting her hand on her hip. He chuckled over her non-answer, knowing that it gave him his answer. "You're not my boss. If you'll excuse me."

"Hey, wait," he said before she could leave. "Speaking of bosses, I'm going to tell Steve about...everything."

"What?" she asked quickly. "Lucas, wait. What?"

"I have a meeting with him later this afternoon. Since you're out cavorting with designers..."

"But...It's my news."

"It's our news," he said with a furrowed brow.

"Well, yeah, but...it's...my body," she reminded him needlessly. She wanted to ignore the little bit of hurt that showed on his face.

"Peyton, it's not a big deal. I guess if you want me to wait, I'll wait. I just thought that since I'd be in there anyway, I'd get it out of the way."

She didn't know why she was upset. Maybe she wasn't, really. It was his baby, too, and Steve wasn't an easy guy to get face-to-face. It made sense for Lucas to share their news when he had the opportunity.

"No," she sighed. "I'm sorry. You're right. Tell him."

"Are you sure? Because..."

"Yes. I'm sure. I'm sorry I keep freaking out on you." She smiled at him and he shook his head gently. "Now I have to go or I'm going to be late to meet this designer, and I've heard she can be a bit of a diva."

"That right?" he asked as she walked towards him. She reached for his tie and straightened it for him, and he didn't kiss her, but he for damn sure wanted to.

"Mmm."

"What?"

"Black on black," she said softly. "Seriously...so sexy."

"Hmm. Maybe you should wear it sometime. I can see if I like it as much as you do," he suggested.

"Maybe," she said, pulling away from him. "Your place later?"

"Sure. Time?"

"Whenever I get there," she said, raising her brow again, almost begging him to try to argue.

"Perfect," he said instead.

She was out the door and he was left there, shaking his head as he went back to his work. They were almost through the week. Three days left. Well, three and a half. Surely he could go three and a half days.

But his mind still raced, long after she'd left, wondering what she and Brooke were up to.

----

"OK, so what am I looking for?" Brooke asked.

"Black."

"Black? That's all?" Brooke asked incredulously.

"Classy. But sexy. And...nice. Not slutty. I can't do slutty when I'm carrying a child," Peyton explained, making both of them laugh.

They were standing in La Perla, a store Peyton very rarely ever went in, but one where Brooke was a frequent shopper. They were walking around, eyeing mannequins and delicate little things and looking for something perfect for Peyton's plan.

"I've gotta tell you, Peyton, I love that Lucas brings out this side of you."

"I'm blaming it on hormones," Peyton insisted.

"Explains why it's been going on basically since you met him!" Brooke laughed. "_Before_ you let him ravish you in the back of the club at your own party."

"Brooke!"

"We're in a lingerie store," Brooke said, looking around. "There are no secrets here. Everyone here's equally as slutty."

"You're something else," Peyton said, shaking her head.

"So you think this plan is going to work?" Brooke asked, returning to their original subject.

"Yes. Definitely."

"You're confident."

"That's because I'm seriously considering buying this," Peyton said.

She held up a black lace slip with a full push up bra and intricate lace detail. It was short, cut to barely cover the bottom, and Brooke eyed it appreciatively. Then she found the matching thong, and Peyton got a devious glint in her eye that had Brooke squealing in delight.

Brooke couldn't help but notice that - sex-deprivation aside - Peyton looked amazingly happy and somehow at peace with all the changes that were going on. Her best friend was having a baby with the man she loved, and Brooke knew there was nothing more beautiful than that. She did know, however, having spoken to Nathan about it in great detail, that Lucas was itching for something to move forward on some level. From the sounds of it, he did want to get engaged. Brooke knew that it wouldn't be simply because of the baby. She knew he just loved Peyton. It wasn't (yet) her place to say anything to her best friend about it, but she knew that if Peyton needed some sense knocked into her, Brooke might just have to be the one to do it.

"I cannot believe I just spent almost a thousand dollars on lingerie," Peyton said as they walked out of the store. "And for a man who probably won't even care!"

"Oh, honey. He'll care," Brooke insisted. "He'll care."

"You don't know how stubborn he is."

"Um...Nathan could definitely give him a run for his money." She started laughing, and Peyton looked at her questioningly. "He's just not crazy enough to offer to give up sex."

"Honestly? What was I thinking?"

"OK wait," Brooke said, stopping in her tracks. "You don't just want him to give in. You want him to give it to you."

"Basically."

"So he _loses_ and he still gets to see you in the hottest lingerie you've ever worn," Brooke stated before she started laughing. "This is the stupidest bet ever!"

"I know! Like, if he just gives in, he gets to have sex. He's all about his pride or something. It's stupid."

"And you're horny."

"I'm hormonal!"

"Horny."

"I'm pregnant. And my body is..."

"Peyton?" Brooke said, placing her hand on the blonde's forearm. "You're horny. It's fine. It's natural. Just wear the hell out of what you just bought, and Lucas will scratch the itch for you. There's _no_ way he turns you down in this."

Peyton let out a dramatic breath as they kept walking, and when they came to a high end baby store, Brooke insisted they go in. Peyton pretended like she didn't want to, but she found herself falling in love with pale coloured onesies and cute little hats and dresses. If nothing else, it took her mind off what was going to (or not going to) happen in the next couple hours.

Her mind was put at ease a little bit when Lucas left her a message saying that Steve was happy for them and hadn't seemed upset at all. That was just one less thing to worry about.

All that was left was...everything else.

----

She showed up at his apartment just after 7:00. She had wanted to get there sooner, but she had a craving for pizza from the place she loved, and she was 'forced' to order in. She ate alone, quickly, then got her things together, tidied herself up a little bit, and headed to Lucas' house.

She knocked at the door when she got there, and he looked utterly confused when he answered. He had no idea why she wasn't using her key.

But then he took in the sight of her a little bit. Black patent leather pumps, legs for days, and a black thigh-length trench. Her hair was curled a little bit in a way that they both knew damn well he loved, and her makeup was a little smoky. Her lips were just a little pink, and she was smiling, and he didn't know what to say.

"Hi," she said, moving her hands to the belt of her jacket.

"Hi," he managed.

She undid the buttons, and he was so entranced by her that he hadn't even invited her in - not that she ever needed an invitation.

And then she opened her jacket and revealed what she was wearing underneath, and he was staring so hard that he missed the devious (and possibly victorious) smirk on her face.

She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back into his apartment, and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath her palm. Poor guy, she thought momentarily. She clicked the lock on the door and set down her bag, and then his hands were on her waist and he was still looking at her body. He had to take a breath when he saw the amount of cleavage on display. For him. All of it was for him.

"What? What's...Wow."

He couldn't decide if he was overdressed or underdressed in his jeans and Knicks tee shirt. All he knew was that he wanted them both naked. And fast. In that little ensemble, she was definitely ahead of him.

"You asked for black on black," she said, locking eyes with him when he finally tore his gaze from her ensemble.

"Fucking hell, woman." He shook his head and pulled her a little closer, slipping his hands beneath her jacket a little more. "You're playing dirty."

"You wanna play with me?" she asked seductively, her index finger tracing the line of his jaw.

He didn't say anything, but he began pushing the fabric of her coat over her shoulders and he let it fall to the floor, and he took another breath when he saw all that skin, all that Peyton, standing before him and practically begging him to kiss every fucking inch of her.

"You _know_ I can't say no to this," he stated.

"I know." She pressed her lips to his just gently, and he whined a little bit when she moved away. "Say that I win."

She ran her hand through his hair while the other toyed with the front of his tee shirt at his stomach, and his breathing sped up, and his eyes darkened even more. She wasn't sure if it was lust or anger or both, but no matter what, she knew she'd enjoy it.

"You fucking win."

His lips were on hers before she could laugh or even smile smugly.

His hands were everywhere as they walked, lip-locked, towards his bedroom. She backed him against the wall at one point, knocking one of his paintings askew. He really didn't care in the slightest. He could tend to that later. He was going to tend to her first. Or let her tend to him. Or whatever was about to happen. Sex. That was really the only thing in his mind.

She had his shirt pulled over his head before they were even down the hall, and she was working the button of his jeans as they stumbled through the door. He mumbled something against her skin that sounded a little bit like 'so worth it,' but she had blocked out pretty much anything that wasn't his lips and his hands and his jeans pooling at his feet when they stepped closer to the bed.

He took a step back when he was left in just his boxers, holding her at arms length and letting himself look at her hungrily. That was the best descriptor. She felt like he was about to lose it any second and turn into some kind of animal. It wouldn't be the first time.

She didn't want it to happen just yet. When his hands reached for the bottom of the lace she wore, she pulled away from him a little more.

"No," she commanded, pushing him back onto the bed.

He honestly and truly thought he might cry. If she was just teasing him and about to tell him that he wasn't getting it, he thought he might lose it. He needed her, and she was amazing, but if she turned it all around at that point, he may have hated her a little bit.

"Babe..."

"This is expensive."

"I don't care."

"I do," she said, swatting at his hands when he tried to grab her hips. "I don't need you getting all passion-crazed now."

"Too late," he mumbled. "Peyton, don't...Don't tease me."

"I'm not." She smirked at him and toyed with the lace at the bottom of the garment. "I'm just going to take this off myself. Slowly. And you're going to sit there and watch." One strap of the negligé fell down on its own, stealing his attention. "Is that a problem?"

"I'll do whatever you want right now."

She didn't say anything more. She just leaned down and kissed him, but she moved away from him again when he tried to touch her.

He was annoyed at first. He really was. But then he smirked to himself. She'd get what was coming to her.

He lay back on his bed against his pillows, placing one hand behind his head, and he tried to look a hell of a lot more in control than he was actually feeling. He watched her undo the two delicate little buttons at the side of the...whatever the hell it was she was wearing. He couldn't be bothered of think of the right word. He honestly didn't care, as long as she didn't take too long getting out of it.

She lifted the hem and made it look like she was just going to pull it up over her head, but when he took a sharp breath and let out a noise, she raised her brow and stopped moving. The look on his face was almost pathetic, but was actually adorable, and she really didn't want to tease him too much. She knew that if she did, she'd pay for it later. And she already had days of toying with him that he was no doubt going to get her back for.

She carefully pulled the thin, sheer material up over her head and walked it over to the chair in the corner of the room, and Lucas ended up sitting up again, watching her walk around in just her heels and that tiny little thong that (as much as he was enjoying it) she probably didn't need to be wearing. It wasn't like it was really leaving much to the imagination anyway.

He fucking loved that his girl could rock some dirty lingerie like that and still somehow be so damn sweet at the same time.

"Can I please, please do the rest," he pleaded boyishly when she stood in front of him again. They both knew she couldn't say no to those eyes.

"Carefully," she warned him, taking a step closer.

He kind of ignored her. He kind of grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the bed, then he was the one standing and she was on her back. He leaned down and kissed her hard, just because he was in control now, and he wanted her to know exactly how things would be from then on out.

She kicked off her own shoes and he glared at her, but he realized very quickly that he _could_ be getting nothing, so he didn't say a word. He just slipped his fingers beneath the very, very minimal fabric that was (barely) covering her, and he pulled the little item down her legs, kissing her skin the entire time, because it felt like forever since he had done it.

She fully expected him to just sink into her and get what they both wanted. She shouldn't have been surprised when he kissed her and he quickly placed his hand between her legs. She breathed out his name in that way that actually gave him chills, and he kissed her gently. He spoke softly and he reminded her that he'd told her what he could do with his baby finger and that he intended to prove it.

She was falling apart within minutes, calling his name and saying she loved him when she was laying there with her eyes closed afterward. She told him she wanted him inside her already, and he smirked at her impatience. He let out an almost sinister laugh as he made his way down her body, and then her hands were in his hair as he kissed the inside of her thighs.

She really had no idea how he was able to control himself. It almost reminded her (during a rare moment of conscious, legible thought) of that first time they were together, when he wanted her so badly, but wanted even more to make her feel amazing.

He was succeeding. He always did.

She'd just come down from her third orgasm of the night when he slid into her without preamble. Well, their entire night and, hell, every moment since the last time they did this had been 'preamble'.

"I forgot," she said, though she was breathless and sweating and barely able to speak. He hadn't started moving yet, and she was almost thankful for that. This time.

"Forgot what?" he asked, kissing her neck as he somehow pulled himself even closer to her.

"How good you feel," she admitted.

If they were anywhere else, doing anything else, he would have reminded her that it was almost entirely her fault for challenging him in the first place. But it wasn't the time or place to start making accusations. He just started making love instead.

He was almost startled by a very real, very vivid, very intense thought, though he wasn't sure how he was thinking rationally at all.

He wanted to marry this woman.

He was _going_ to marry this woman.

He knew it. She had to know it, too.

He wondered why she wasn't just agreeing to wear his ring already.

Then, her hands were holding him tightly, and she was arching her back beneath him and calling out his name. He hadn't even really realized how close he was until then, and her movement against him had him falling faster and harder than ever. If he'd been in any frame of mind to think it, he'd have wondered if the idea of her being his wife had helped him along.

"God," he said breathlessly as he moved to lay beside her. "If losing was always like that? To hell with winning."

She couldn't even manage proper words. She let out a strange sound, one born from passion and satisfaction and exhaustion, and he thought that was probably the best combination ever.

"Wanna know the best part?" he asked, placing random kisses to her bare shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"This was basically my fantasy anyway," he said with a smirk.

"What?" she asked quickly, turning to look at him. "It was not."

"Was too," he insisted seriously. "Except in my fantasy, you would have come to the library door and you'd be wearing nothing under the jacket. And you'd keep your shoes on."

She really couldn't tell if he was joking. She wasn't sure it mattered.

"Oh. Well. Maybe another time," she said softly.

He just let out a noise from low in his throat, and when he pulled her so she was on top of him, she was biting her lip in anticipation.

She learned a few things from their little experiment. One, that was what you'd call a win-win situation. Two, there was no way in hell she was ever going to question his resolve again. And three, she just _could not_ be without that contact from him.

The passionate 'I haven't had you in days' reunion had been pretty fucking hot, though.


	26. Chapter 26

Lucas sat at the counter in his kitchen, thumbing through a magazine that had arrived for him and sipping a bottle of beer, when the door opened and slammed harshly. He braced himself for whatever was about to happen.

Mood swings. Lovely.

When it first started happening, Lucas actually found it adorable. He told her it reminded him of when they first met and she 'hated' him with everything in her, throwing insults his way and demeaning him every chance she got. She'd scowled at him and kinked her brow, placed her hand on her hip and told him that he "picked the wrong fucking thing to reminisce about."

Then the mood swings weren't so endearing anymore.

It was around the same time that she ran out of things to wear. She'd gotten some essentials, but she loved her 'non-pregnant' wardrobe, and she'd actually cried when she couldn't button her favourite jacket. Lucas had to call Brooke that day to calm Peyton down. He figured anything clothing related was better handled by Brooke than by him.

So Peyton had gone shopping on Friday after work, and she told him she'd just go to his place afterward.

"Would it _kill_ these stores to have _some_ sort of decent maternity wear?" she asked irately as she walked into the apartment, setting down a single bag. Throwing would probably be more accurate.

"No luck?" He figured that was a safe question.

"Just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean I want to wear a freaking polyester _tent_ for the next five months!"

"Did you talk to Brooke?" he asked, pulling her into his arms and cradling her against his chest. He felt her relax a little bit against him, which had been his objective.

"She had to go to Paris for a few days," she mumbled against him. "I hate it when she leaves."

"I know, babe," he said sympathetically, stroking her hair.

In the time since Brooke found out about 'baby Scott' as she called it, she and Peyton had become even closer, which no one had ever thought was even possible. Brooke, along with Lucas, of course, was Peyton's rock. She called Peyton with remedies for aches and pains, approved by her holistic gynecologist (Lucas hadn't even known there was such a thing; even still, he thought it pretty bogus). Any time Peyton had a concern or a question or just needed to talk, she'd talk to Lucas, then to Brooke.

So there was a huge downside to Brooke's insane schedule and demanding job. She traveled a lot, leaving Peyton 'alone', though they all knew she wasn't really alone. If she was freaking out about something and Brooke was away, she'd talk to Lucas, then call Nathan, who would make jokes and ridiculous comments until he had her laughing again. Lucas loved that Peyton and Nathan were so close.

"_And_, it's fucking snowing!" she said with disdain, her mood instantly angry again.

"I thought you loved snow."

"Not right now I don't!"

"OK," he said, grasping her wrist loosely with his hand. "Come here and just...calm down, alright?"

"Don't patronize me, Lucas."

"I'm not," he insisted as he sat her down on the sofa. "You just can't get so upset."

"Easy for you to say. You have clothes to wear," she mumbled, crossing her arms and looking away from him.

"Hey, I'll walk around here naked if it makes you feel any better," he said with a smirk, forcing her to look at him and roll her eyes. She was smiling though. Mission accomplished.

"Honestly, can we do that?" she asked, very seriously. "Just close all the blinds and work from here tomorrow so I don't have to wear clothes?"

"Are you...Really?" he asked in amusement. And maybe a little bit of anticipation.

"Yes. I don't want people judging me. I just want one day without the stares," she said, shaking her head.

Since she'd started really showing, there were hushed whispers almost everywhere she went. Everyone in the office basically knew that she and Lucas were together, though they still didn't publicly display any of that, and that he was the father of her baby. There were certain gossips, however, that liked to start stupid rumors and ask questions that spread like wildfire through the company. She really didn't want to care, but it was hard to ignore.

Not to mention, she was snapped in a few photos when she'd gone to lunch with Nathan one Saturday, and a local gossip website raised questions as to whether Lucas or Nathan was the father. It would have been funny if it wasn't so intrusive and inappropriate.

It was all just ridiculous, and it was really starting to get to her.

"I'll go call Steve," Lucas said softly. He stood from his place before leaning down to kiss the crown of her head. "You could get naked right now if you wanted to."

"Oh! You want to see the dress I bought?" she asked, looking up at him with a smile. "It's actually really nice."

"I'd love to see it, babe," he said, taking her hand to help her up. "I'll be out in a sec."

He wasn't sure if it was the drastic mood swings and hormones that had made her so calm, so quickly, or if it was him. As he made his way to his library to call their boss, he chose to believe that it was all him.

He was trying his best. He didn't get short with her, no matter how short she got with him. He took it all in stride. He held her if she got overwhelmed and wanted to cry, and he let her shout about silly things that she didn't think were silly, and he watched girly movies because she insisted she wanted to. She'd end up crying and he'd have to wipe her tears, and he'd do that too.

He walked into his bedroom just in time to see her smoothing out the fabric of the red dress she was wearing. It was more of a deep burgundy or something. All he saw was his gorgeous girl in a gorgeous dress, running her hands over her stomach, letting them rest there when she didn't know he was looking.

"Wow," he said softly, smiling when she turned to look at him.

"You like it?" she asked skeptically. He absolutely loved that she had no idea how damn sexy she was.

"I love it," he said honestly, walking towards her. "It's perfect."

"I should have bought it in every colour."

"I wouldn't complain," he murmured, kissing her neck as he stood behind her.

It was just a simple long sleeved cotton wrap dress. There was a tie at the side that she'd fastened in the perfect bow, and it was a little low cut (which he'd never complain about, especially now with her fuller breasts). She'd put on a little camisole underneath, which he felt was tasteful enough for the office.

Though, if she wanted to work naked from home for the rest of her pregnancy, he'd be fine with that, too.

"Maybe I'll go back tomorrow and get another one," she said, turning to look at him. "Is that crazy?"

"Not crazy. You should wear what you're comfortable in."

"You know how dark your eyes are right now?" she asked with a laugh. "You really do like it, don't you?"

"It's not the dress. It's the girl," he insisted. "You kill me."

"You're not allowed to die yet," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I like you too much."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?" she asked.

"I promise."

It wasn't the fist time they'd had a conversation like that. He still didn't quite have the nerve to ask her to marry him yet. He wasn't sure she'd say yes. She still maintained that she didn't want to get married just because they were having a baby. He didn't know how to convince her that the baby had little or nothing to do with it, that he wanted to marry her because he was in love with her, and for no other reason.

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't want to have to _convince_ her of anything. He just wanted her to want to marry him too.

----

"No! I absolutely will not give you an interview," Peyton said, her tone businesslike as she strutted down a New York City street. "Because my personal life doesn't belong on the pages of some glossy magazine. No matter who I'm in a relationship with."

She ended the call with force and dropped her phone into her bag before wrapping her scarf a little tighter around her neck. She was getting really damn sick of these calls. The press would use their accreditation to get through Mia to Peyton, saying they were from whatever magazine, then Peyton's cell would ring and she'd have to answer questions as ridiculous as whether or not she'd performed an in-utero paternity test or if she'd caused a rift in the Scott family. Clearly Nathan and Lucas attending every Knicks home game together didn't do enough to dispel the rumors. So Mia was being extra diligent, generally not give Peyton's number out at all. However, every so often, someone would get through to her and she'd have to deal with it all.

That night, all she wanted was to pick up a few things from the market, go to Lucas' place, put on her pajamas, and have him rub her feet while she watched television and ate some Doritos. He didn't yet know that he was going to be massaging her, but he'd know soon enough. And it wasn't like he'd complain about it anyway. She'd learned that he'd do anything for her, whether she asked him to or not. She loved that.

"OK," she said, stepping through the door and dropping her bags. "What do I have to do to prove that I haven't had sex with Nathan?"

Lucas just stood there, staring blankly. Those weren't exactly the first words he expected to hear.

He'd had meetings all day and hadn't been in the office, and she was still sleeping when he'd left in the morning. He was hoping that day apart would make their evening a little more special. It seemed, however, that she'd forgotten the occasion altogether.

"What's going on in here?" she asked in confusion.

There were a few candles lit around the apartment, and some music playing, and several bouquets of white roses (exactly like the ones she'd thrown in the trash all those months ago) sitting on various surfaces in the apartment.

"It's our six month anniversary," he said, smiling, though he really wasn't sure he should.

"Oh my God!" she cried, her hand flying to her mouth. "I forgot! I didn't even...Luke, I'm so sorry!"

"As long as you didn't just come from Nathan's place or something, you're forgiven," he teased.

"I don't have...I didn't get you anything," she said as he pulled her further into the apartment. "I'm the worst girlfriend ever."

"Hey. No you aren't. I don't need anything other than you. And him." He placed his hand on her stomach and leaned forward to kiss her.

"Or her."

"Right. Or her," he said with a laugh. "When do we find that out, anyway?"

"I dunno. Soon."

She was distracted as she looked around the apartment at the effort he'd put into doing something special for her. He really didn't need to. She definitely loved that he had, though. And she loved that he didn't make everything all ridiculous and outwardly romantic. Of course, it was romantic, but not absurdly so. She knew that wasn't in either of their tastes.

"Well, I wanted to surprise you. I didn't know it'd be this easy," he said with a laugh.

"I feel like...I'm so sorry."

"Don't." He shook his head and kissed her quickly. "What do you want to do?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly," he said, laughing at the way she'd scrunched her nose.

"I want to put on pajamas, eat chips, and watch Entourage."

He laughed again and kissed her again and caressed her back a little bit. "Go change."

"I love you," she said with a smile. "Like...I really, really love you."

"Because I let you eat chips and watch T.V. on our anniversary?" he called down the hall after her as she made her way to the bedroom to change.

"Yes!" she shouted back.

And so when she returned in her little striped shorts and a tank top that didn't quite cover her stomach, she sat on the sofa and draped her feet over his legs. He massaged her feet without her even having to ask. That was why she loved him. Well, one of the reasons.

"I love Jeremy Piven."

"Babe, I know. You tell me that every time we watch this show," he said. He stole a chip, and she scowled at him playfully.

"Have I told you that I met him once?" she asked with her brow kinked. He shook his head in the negative. "At a party in L.A. He's like, the coolest guy."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're pouting," she noted. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. "You're jealous."

"I am not jealous," he said indignantly. "Especially not of some guy you've only met once."

"He's sexy."

"OK, stop. I'm jealous."

She could only laugh and lean a little closer to him, and when she kissed his cheek, he sighed.

"I don't _love him_, love him," she amended. "I love him like the way you love Carrie Underwood. Which, by the way, is totally weird."

"Is not. _She's_ sexy."

"She's a great girl, too," Peyton said, popping another chip into her mouth. "So nice."

"You never told me you've met her!" he proclaimed, like she'd been keeping the world's worst secret.

"I wanted to make sure you loved me enough before I started telling you that I've got her number stored in my phone."

"_That's_ the Carrie in your phone!?"

"Wrong answer," she laughed. "You're supposed to say that you love me and no one else and even though you think other women are sexy, you still think I'm sexier. Even if I'm almost five months pregnant and have my hand is covered in Dorito cheese."

"Oh," he said and turned back to the television, though there was a smirk on his face.

"Lucas!" she whined.

"Oh please. You really think I'm ever going to be with anyone else at this point?"

"Ever?"

"Well, now that I know she's stored in your phone..."

"Hey!"

"I'm joking. I love you. No one else. You know that. You're being needy," he said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"I'm allowed."

"Is that right?"

"Yes," she said with finality.

He got up to grab something from the kitchen, and he knelt beside her and kissed her, telling her very seriously that he loved her, that it was never changing, and that no one in the world could hold a candle to her. They both knew she'd just been joking and she didn't need him to say it. She still liked that he had, though.

----

"Oh my God! Luke!" she cried one Saturday evening after dinner. Lucas was doing dishes and rushed into the room.

"What?" he asked. She had both hands on her stomach, and he moved to kneel beside her. "What is it?"

"A kick," she said in wonder, locking eyes with him. "Like, a real kick."

She'd been able to feel the baby moving around for a few weeks, but it was nothing strong enough for anyone else to feel. Lucas got all pouty (it was adorable) every time she said the baby was moving, knowing he wouldn't be able to feel it. He'd tried to tell her that it wasn't fair, but she just raised her brow as if to ask him if he really wanted to have _that_ discussion.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Come here," she said, grabbing his hand and placing it on the spot where she'd just felt the movement. "Just wait."

And so they waited for what felt like forever. It was only a matter of minutes, but both of them were completely still and completely silent, hoping for that wonderful moment. When it happened, that little thump against Lucas' hand, they both laughed a bit and he rest his forehead against hers and kissed her gently.

"That is...That's a baby," Lucas said, laughing at the absurdity of his own statement.

"Yeah," she whispered.

He had more dishes to do. Quite a few of them, actually. He really didn't want to leave Peyton's side though, and it was silly, since she was fine, but he just wanted to be with her.

And he wanted more than that, too.

"Can we talk about when you're moving in?" he asked.

Apparently, though he didn't know it, that was completely the wrong thing to say.

"What?"

"Well...We're getting closer and closer to the due date, and I think we should do this all soon," he explained.

"But...Why am I the one who has to move?" she asked, her voice just a little angry. He wanted to keep it just a _little_ angry.

"I just assumed..."

"That since I'm the girl, I have to move?"

"What? No. That's not what I'm saying."

"Well what _are_ you saying, Lucas?" she asked, furrowing her brow at him.

Really, it wasn't any big surprise that he was bringing it up. If she was being honest, she was probably a little shocked he hadn't mentioned something sooner. But she'd told him in the beginning that she didn't want to do anything just because of the pregnancy. She was afraid that's all he was suggesting this move for. In the back of her mind, she had to know that it wasn't.

"I want...some kind of commitment from you," he admitted seriously.

"Lucas, don't be ridiculous. I'm committed."

"Peyton, you're...I know. I know that. But this is different, OK? We're having a baby. I need to know...I need to know I'm here."

He didn't care that it didn't necessarily made sense, because he felt she'd understand. He didn't want to ever be cut out of their baby's life, or her life, or anything else. He wanted to have the rest of their lives together.

He was absolutely damn terrified by her resistance to move in.

"That's not even an issue," she insisted. "I told you that. This isn't...I'm not going anywhere."

"But you're not coming here," he mumbled. "We practically live together anyway."

"But I just have to conveniently plug myself into your life, right? Forget what I want?"

"That's not even remotely what I'm implying," he said, unable to hide his frustration.

"Why here?"

"Because it's bigger," he said simply. "Your place is three bedroom, mine is four. Well, three and a library. The baby will have its own room, then you can have the other for your records. If I moved to your place, where would I put my books?"

"Your books? That's what's important to you?" she asked, standing from the sofa. Even though they were mid-argument, he helped her up. It wasn't a conscious thing that he expected praise for, and it wasn't something she had any intention of acknowledging.

"_You're_ what's important to me. I'm just thinking rationally. Clearly, you're not."

As soon as he'd said it, he cursed himself. He tipped his head back and groaned at his own stupidity, and Peyton didn't say another word. She just walked away from him and down the hall towards one of the spare bedrooms, and she wasted no time slamming the door closed in an unspoken warning not to follow her.

He stood there in his living room for a bit, wondering how in the hell he'd managed to screw up that important conversation quite so badly. And after such a monumental moment, too. He was an idiot. He should have been more delicate about it. He should have known she wouldn't want to leave her house, and he should have given her all those perfect reasons why it was the best idea.

He most definitely should not have called her irrational.

Peyton lay on the bed in that spacious spare bedroom, the one that was hardly ever used. She was on her side and clutching a pillow, and all she could think was that she may have overreacted. She wanted to live with him. But it scared her. She loved her independence, and she loved her space. She didn't want to answer to anyone. She didn't think he'd try to take any of that away from her, but what if she just needed time alone? What if she just wanted to escape everything for an hour and be alone? Then what?

But the more she lay on the bed in that room, the more everything kind of started making sense.

It wasn't until an hour later that the door was pushed open and Lucas stood there, his arms crossed as he stared at her, looking beautiful and just a little sad (he hated himself for that part).

"I thought this could be the baby's room," he said, looking around the room.

That was exactly what she had been thinking.

"You're right," she said softly after a few minutes. "It's...you're right."

He loved being right. He hated how small her voice was. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard her so unsure of herself.

"I'm sorry. I sprung all this on you, and..."

"Lucas, I'm just scared," she finally admitted. He moved to sit next to her on the bed and brushed her hair away from her face.

"Of what, sweetheart?"

"What if it's not what you think it'll be like?" she asked. "What if...I mean, I know we spend all our time together anyway, but...it could all change."

"Not a chance," he insisted softly. "I won't let it." He could see she was about to say more, but he didn't want her to. "I know you're independent and you don't really want to rely on me."

"Luke, that's not..."

But it was. They both knew that.

"But I want you to." He smiled at her, forcing her to let her own lips curl upward. "Because I like taking care of you."

"I've never lived with anyone but my dad and Brooke," she said, letting him take her hand.

"I've never lived with anyone either. You're the only one who's made me want to," he said. "And you're the only one who's ever had me thinking about marriage."

He had no idea how she'd react to that, but he had to say it. He figured he'd start easing her into that idea. If she reacted this way about living together, he thought she might hit him if he proposed.

"Lucas, don't..."

"I'm not saying now," he interrupted quickly. "I'm saying when you're ready. Because I want to marry you...any time. And it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that we're having this baby. I think I wanted to marry you even before this little one."

"Liar."

"I am not," he insisted with a laugh. "I just love you, Peyton."

"I love you, too." It was a whisper, and he leaned down to kiss her, and as soon as their lips met, the baby kicked against his palm as it rest on her stomach. "Baby loves you, too."

His heart melted.

"Are you serious about...marriage?" she asked quietly.

"You just let me know when." He smiled at her and watched as she blushed. He kissed her cheek because he felt like he had to after that.

"OK," she whispered. "And I'll call a realtor on Monday."

"Alright." He was trying to be nonchalant. He couldn't hide his smile.

He didn't expect her to pull his arm and force him to lay down next to her, but she did, and he did. And they lay there, watching each other and wrapped up in each other in the room that would be their baby's.

She thought, as she drifted off to sleep in that very spot, that maybe if she could live with a man, she could be married to one too. Eventually. She'd let him know. She loved that he wasn't pressuring her. It only made her _want_ to marry him. She wondered if that was his plan all along.

Sneaky, Lucas.


	27. Chapter 27

Peyton's condo sold in a matter of weeks, during which time she slowly started moving more and more of her things into Lucas' apartment. Lucas had tried to convince her to hire movers, but she'd told him that who needs movers when you have Scott brothers? Lucas and Nathan wound up carrying boxes of clothes and a bunch of garment bags. Peyton figured moving the clothes she couldn't wear first was the best idea. It wasn't like she'd miss them.

She sold her apartment furnished, for the most part. Since they didn't need much from her place to cross over into Lucas', she was able to kill two birds with one stone. She just took a few select pieces of furniture to Lucas' place, and the shelves for her records, and they took one of the bedroom sets from Lucas' apartment to fill the spare bedroom at her place. It worked out pretty well, actually.

"We should have done this ages ago," Peyton commented off-hand from her place on the sofa.

It was the day before her apartment was officially no longer hers, and Lucas and Nathan, with the help of Dan, to all their surprise, were carrying the last of her things (read: all her records) into Lucas' place. Well, their place, now.

Peyton, Brooke and Deb sat in the living room of the apartment, sipping sparkling water and eating some fruit while the guys worked.

"Yeah. It's really too bad I didn't mention it, oh, _eight months ago_," Lucas said.

"Oh stop. It wasn't eight months," Peyton said, waving her hand in the air.

"And you know, you two aren't pregnant," Nathan said, standing behind Brooke's chair and glancing at his mom. "You could help."

"Sorry, honey," Deb said, holding up her hands. "Manicure."

"And I just don't want to," Brooke said, making the women laugh.

"See if I help when you move into Nathan's place," Lucas mumbled.

"Oh, I will _not_ be moving into Nathan's place," Brooke said, as though that were the worst idea in the world.

"Why not?" Nathan asked quickly.

"That bachelor pad? No." Brooke shook her head and Nathan crossed his arms and glared at her. "At least Lucas' place is like, a _home_. Yours is just where you sleep. Sometimes."

"So I have to move into your place?" Nathan asked incredulously.

"What's wrong with my place?" she inquired, kinking her brow at him.

"Nothing! It's just...well...it's a little girly."

"It is not girly!" Brooke cried.

Lucas just stood behind where Peyton was sitting on the sofa, rest his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to speak into her ear, telling her that he was really happy she was moving in. To _their home_.

"Oh. Whoa," Peyton said, resting her hand on her stomach.

"What?" Brooke asked worriedly.

"He's like, doing a jig in here or something," Peyton laughed.

By that point, they'd all felt the baby kick plenty of times. It was an active little one, Deb would say. She said that Nathan never really moved around much. Lucas, of course, made a comment on how his brother was lazy, even in the womb. It was a joke, and Nathan just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You keep saying _he_. Do you know something we don't?" Dan asked, joining the group in the living room. They had more boxes to move, but it seemed they were all taking a little break.

"No," Peyton answered quickly, shaking her head. "We have an appointment this week, and we could find out if we want to."

"But you don't know if you want to?" Dan asked.

"I want to. He doesn't." Peyton looked up at Lucas and he was rolling his eyes.

"What about names?" Deb inquired.

"Oh, um..." Lucas stuttered.

"We have a boy's name. Not a girl's name," Peyton explained. "I really think it's a boy."

Lucas squeezed her shoulder as everyone threw around names they probably all knew Peyton and Lucas would ever use. But it felt something like a family, and in really no time at all, they'd all be sitting there fussing over a newborn.

He had to let out a quick breath. The pregnancy thing, he was used to. The thought of being a father, actually caring for and raising a baby, still felt a little crazy. Not crazy bad, crazy good. But crazy nonetheless.

----

"Mia, can you please make sure that there's no lettuce on my sandwich today?" Peyton asked as she walked past her assistant and into her office. "I hate lettuce."

She didn't hate lettuce. _That week_, she hated lettuce.

"Lettuce, huh?"

She stopped in her tracks when she saw the person sitting in her office. She looked around, her eyes meeting Mia's outside, and the girl was barely able to contain her grin.

"Dad," she said softly. There were tears in her eyes over this surprise visit. She walked forward and hugged him as tightly as her stomach would allow. "What are you doing here?"

"I've got the week off, so I thought I'd come up here and see you like this," he said, stepping a back a little bit, though he kept her hands in his. "And maybe meet this man you aren't marrying."

It was the one sore spot about the whole situation. Larry had been great - thrilled over the prospect of being a grandfather - but he didn't understand her desire not to get married yet. Sure, if she wasn't in love with Lucas like she said she was, he wouldn't expect her to marry the guy. However, with her insisting that she was moving in and she'd marry Lucas eventually, well, he didn't see what the holdup was.

"Dad, it's not...Can we not talk about this right now?" she asked in a whisper.

"Alright, alright. It can wait till later," he said, smiling when she rolled her eyes. "Nice office you've got here."

"Yeah, it's..."

"Peyton, I need you to go over...Oh. Sorry," Lucas said upon seeing Peyton speaking to someone. He couldn't see the man's face, since his back was to the door, but when Larry turned around, he found himself nervous. This was her father. Her father who Lucas had never met.

"Lucas. Can you actually spare a couple minutes?" she asked. Her father's face changed a little. He knew that Peyton and Lucas worked together, but he hadn't expected to meet the guy in the office.

"Yeah, of course," Lucas said, pushing the door closed. "Mr. Sawyer, it's nice to meet you."

"It's Larry. And nice to meet you, too," Larry said, extending his hand. "Finally."

"Says the guy who's always out in some boat in some ocean," Peyton said with a raised brow.

"Fair enough," Larry conceded in defeat, making them all laugh a little. "Anyway, I'm taking you both to dinner tonight."

"Dad, you don't have to. We can...I'll cook."

"Nonsense," Larry said, glancing at Lucas, who just held up his hands. He got the impression Larry was almost challenging him to argue, but he knew better than to argue with a man with such resolve. Peyton came by her stubborn nature honestly, it seemed.

"Luke, what's that restaurant with that really good thing?" she asked, making both men laugh. "Shut up! You know the one. Near our place. It's called...Midnight or Dawn or Dusk or something."

"Metalwood," Lucas corrected with a chuckle. He did love that she had started calling it _'our place'_ though.

"Yeah. That one." She glared at him when he shook his head, and Larry just laughed again. "Can we go there? They have that amazing fusion thing I love."

"All about food, huh?" Larry said with a chuckle. He knew from the conversations he'd had with Peyton that she didn't really have any specific cravings, she just loved food in general. She wanted to eat everything, and she was a little obsessive about finding out what everyone else was eating, 'just out of curiosity', she'd say.

"You should have her show you what's in her desk drawer," Lucas laughed. "It's like a supermarket."

Peyton rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip, but she was smiling, because it seemed Lucas was getting along just fine with her father. She hadn't really thought they would have a problem, but it was still a bit of a relief to get that confirmation. She knew her dad didn't take issue (not really) with the situation she'd found herself in, and that she was in love with Lucas. Sure, he may have wished they were getting married, but he wouldn't tell her how to live her life, and she appreciated that, as she knew Lucas did.

But she had heard Lucas one night after she'd gotten off the phone with her father, saying beneath his breath that he wished Larry _would_ force her to get married. She'd scowled at him, but he just smiled and kissed her, and she really didn't have an argument.

Truthfully, she was getting closer and closer to feeling like maybe she wanted to get married.

Peyton gave her dad the key to she and Lucas' apartment and the code to get into the building, then she called the doorman. He insisted he could stay at a hotel, but she refused to let him, and her stubborn stance on the issue had both Lucas and Larry chuckling and exchanging glances.

After their workday, Lucas and Peyton got to their place and were laughing when they walked through the door. Lucas had made a joke about one of their neighbours that was inappropriate and hilarious, and Peyton had to rush down the hall and into the bathroom, claiming that she already had to pee every 10 minutes and she didn't need him making her laugh so hard.

They all got changed into clothes appropriate for the restaurant they were going to, and when Lucas was tying his tie and saw Peyton in that wrap dress she'd bought, he smiled and she rolled her eyes at him in the mirror.

"Stop," she commanded, pinning her hair half up.

"_You_ stop. Beautiful girl," he said, walking up behind her. He rest his hands on her hips and looked at her in the mirror. "We look damn good together, you know that?"

"I guess." She shrugged her shoulder and giggled when he squinted.

"I'm serious. We're a good looking couple. Our baby is lucky."

"Let's just hope he or she gets the humble gene from me," she teased.

"And the rest of the genes from me."

"You're an ass."

"Oh come on. I'm joking. I hope she's just like you," he said sincerely. "Beautiful, funny, smart...stubborn..." He began kissing her neck, brushing her hair aside with his hand. "Perfect."

"If my dad wasn't here..."

"Oh yeah?" Lucas asked in amusement. He kissed the back of her neck, right in the center where she loved him to kiss her.

"Luke..."

"What? You're already pregnant. There aren't many secrets."

"Lucas!" she whispered.

"OK, OK."

"I'm wearing flats," she announced as she stepped into the closet to get shoes. She was still wearing heels every so often, though Lucas swore she was going to give him a heart attack.

She emerged moments later, and they were laughing again when they stepped out of the bedroom to meet Larry in the living room. He was in a suit and tie, straightening the fabric as he smiled at the couple. He sure liked how much Peyton was smiling these days. Lucas was good for her, and Larry could tell. Really, he'd known it all along, since the first time she told him she was 'seeing someone new', as she had put it all those months ago.

And even so, when they were at the restaurant and Peyton got up to go to the washroom, he was happy with the conversation that took place in his daughter's absence.

"Larry, I know it's kind of...questionable timing or...order, perhaps...but I'd like to ask your permission to marry your daughter," Lucas said sincerely. He was actually nervous; noticeably so. "I'm sure you're not exactly thrilled that we're..."

"Lucas," Larry interrupted, leaning forward just a little bit, "I'd be more upset if it wasn't _this_ relationship. With you. But this is clearly...It's not just a meaningless thing."

"No!" Lucas said quickly, his eyes widening at even the thought.

"And I may not know you very well yet, but I can tell you that no one makes her as happy as you're making her." Lucas smiled and looked down at the table. He loved to hear that. "So of course, you can marry her. Please do."

They both laughed and Lucas nodded gently as they saw Peyton walking back to the table. Lucas actually made her blush with the way he was looking at her, and he absolutely loved to do that.

So he had her father's permission. Now all he needed was hers.

He wanted it to be as easy.

----

They were quietly sitting in the large room waiting room at the doctor's office. Well, Peyton didn't necessarily want to be quiet, she just had to be. Stupid Lucas was reading a book - one she'd seen him read before - and wasn't really paying attention to her. She wasn't thrilled by that. She also knew that reading was how Lucas relaxed, and the fact that he had his nose buried in a novel was directly related to how nervous he was.

"Hey Luke?" she said quietly, making him turn to her. "Boy or girl, you think?"

"I've been saying girl all along."

"I know. But right now. Are you sticking with that?"

"Um...yeah," he said, furrowing his brow questioningly.

"But what if it's a boy?" she asked. "Will you be...alright with that?"

"Peyton, of course," he insisted, draping his arm around the back of her chair a little. "It doesn't matter to me. You know that."

"OK," she said, letting herself smile at him. "I'm sorry. I'm just...I've never done this before." She laughed when she realized what she'd said, and he just grinned at her. "But you know that."

"It's surprisingly nice to hear it," he joked.

A woman walked into the waiting room with a baby that looked about two months old, with a little snowsuit on and a knit cap, and Peyton let out an audible contented sigh. She'd never had baby fever until she became pregnant, and then every baby she saw, she wanted to hold and fuss over and use that annoying baby talk voice with.

Lucas smiled at that sound she let out, that happy sound that he'd insisted she made during that first weekend they spent together, and he leaned over to kiss her temple. They were called to head into their appointment, and Lucas got a couple looks from other women in the room. It was then that he noticed that he was the only man there. He wondered briefly why that was, but when Peyton slipped her hand into his, he only thought of her from then on out.

She quickly changed into a paper gown and sat on the table, and the two of them stared at diagrams and glossaries of medical terminology as they waited for their doctor.

It was the same doctor Peyton had gone to when she first found out she was pregnant, and she'd insisted they stick with her. She was sweet and kind and Peyton felt at ease with her, and all that was enough for Lucas. When they'd gone for their first ultrasound, he'd been impressed with her answers to he and Peyton's almost endless questions. She'd laughed and told them that the people who were most inquisitive always made the best parents. That was something Lucas never forgot, and every time he came home with another pregnancy or parenting book, that was what he told Peyton.

"Mr. Scott, Miss Sawyer," Dr. Stellak greeted them, reading their chart as she entered the room. "How are you?"

Lucas looked at Peyton, knowing it didn't really matter much how he was, and she laughed and placed her hand on his cheek. "I'm good. We're good. We're all good."

"Good," Dr. Stellak laughed. "I suppose you want me to get right to the point. Have you decided whether you want to know the sex or not?"

"Yes. We do," Peyton answered quickly.

They'd decided it just that morning. It hadn't been much of a conversation. Lucas insisted he'd been thinking about it and wanted to know so they could plan accordingly. He wanted to have a name and a nursery and toys and clothes. And how excited she'd been when he told her he wanted to know just made him even happier.

The doctor began preparing and performing the tests that needed to be done, and when she was through with that, she smiled and asked if they were ready to see their baby. Lucas was tempted to ask how many times she'd asked that question, but he thought better of it when Peyton clutched his hand and pulled him closer to her.

Peyton didn't flinch as the gel was applied to her stomach. She just bit her bottom lip nervously, though she really wasn't sure what she was nervous about at all. Boy or girl. Benjamin or...Well, they'd need to pick a girl's name.

Lucas squeezed her hand when the heartbeat resonated in the room; no matter how many times he heard that, it'd still be amazing to him. She locked eyes with him and smiled, and she was immediately put at ease by him, which she knew was going to come in handy in the delivery room. They both looked back to the monitor at the foot of the bed and then it was like they were alone in the room, looking at that blurry, somewhat fuzzy image of the baby they'd get to hold in only a few short months.

"Well," Dr. Stellak said as she smiled. "You see this here?" She pointed to three little lines on the screen and looked back to the couple. "You're having a baby girl."

Lucas resisted the urge to say he told her so. He knew that wasn't what it was about at all.

"A girl?" Peyton asked, her voice small and almost a whisper.

"Definitely a girl," the doctor confirmed. "I'll give you a few minutes. You can see yourselves out, and I'll be in touch with the rest of your results." Lucas shook her hand and said thank you, and she smiled at them both. "Congratulations."

Lucas kissed Peyton gently as soon as the door was closed, and his hand rest on her cheek, brushing away a tear that she would have liked to say she couldn't explain. She couldn't help thinking how huge a moment that was, and how she was so glad - _so glad_ - that she was sharing it with Lucas.

"I love you," she said against his lips.

"I love you." He shook his head a little as he rest his forehead against hers. "And our daughter."

She didn't know what else to say. She didn't say anything at all.

----

They were sitting atop their bed one Saturday afternoon, her still in her pajamas, and Lucas in just a pair of grey cashmere pajama bottoms, and they each had a pad of paper and pen in front of them. There was a little music playing, some fruit and bagels on a plate next to them, and decaf coffee (she was making him suffer with her that day) on the bedside table.

They were talking about names.

"Emily?" he suggested.

"No."

"What's wrong with Emily?"

"Nothing! It's a great name. It's also an insanely popular name," she explained, shrugging one shoulder. "I want her to be unique. But not weird."

"Not weird," he concurred, nodding his head. "Abigail?"

"Abigail. Abby." She sighed and tapped her pen. "Abigail Scott."

"You don't like it."

"I like it," she insisted quickly. "I just...I don't love it."

"OK," he said, rubbing her knee gently.

"Addison?"

"Addison Scott." He furrowed his brow and he could tell she was about to as what was wrong. "We need a middle name."

"Oh," she said softly. "I...was thinking maybe we could use Karen."

His throat got a little tight and his heart swelled in his chest. Only his girl would think of something so perfect; would want to honour his mother that way.

"I love you," he whispered. He leaned forward to press his lips to hers, and she wrapped her hand around his wrist. It was something that, given the size of her stomach, she'd started doing more and more often, since they couldn't get quite as close as they used to.

"Scarlett?"

"No."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Scarlett Scott? No. And I hate Scarlett Johansson," he explained.

How much did Peyton love that he hated the decade's sex symbol? Enough to kiss him in a way that made him moan from low in his throat.

"Serena. Blair."

"No Gossip Girl characters!" He did _not_ understand her obsession with that show.

"Come on. Serena is a beautiful name," she tried, using her most convincing tone.

"Sure. For a Gossip Girl character. Not for our daughter." She rolled her eyes but nodded her head. Besides, there were going to be so many little Blairs and Serenas running around New York in a few years anyway.

"Know what name I love?" she asked, tilting her head a little. "Katherine."

"I _love_ it." He answered almost too quickly, and she was slightly unnerved.

"Really?"

"Yes," he said, nodding his head emphatically. "Katherine Scott. Katie. Or Kath."

"But..."

"What?"

"Katherine Karen Scott?" she said softly, not wanting to now take away that sentiment that she'd offered up, perhaps prematurely, she now realized.

"So we won't use Karen," he said, taking her hand. He didn't say it - he knew she probably would have freaked out - but he was thinking they could keep that name for the next baby. "What about...Brooke?"

She was almost crying already. "Really?"

"She's like your sister. She's going to be Godmother."

"Lucas...you...this means so much," she said, moving towards him a little bit. "To her _and_ to me." They lay down together, and he rest his hand on her stomach. "Katherine Brooke Scott."

"Katherine Brooke Scott," he echoed.

They had a daughter. They had a name. They had Godparents.

When Peyton tangled her fingers with the ones of Lucas' left hand, she thought that maybe she wanted to have a husband, too.


	28. Chapter 28

"No. This is...this is all wrong," Lucas insisted.

"But you said..."

"Kristin, this is not what I asked for." He shuffled through the papers in his hand again, looking at them as he shook his head.

"Mr. Scott," she tried.

"It's Lucas. For the _thousandth_ time," he said in frustration. God, he hated when she called him that.

"Sorry. But listen, what you want is..."

"What I want is the names of a few custom jewelers. Not big names. Custom. Quality," he explained. _Again_. "And without Peyton seeing you looking."

"Right," she said, a small smile on her lips.

Lucas knew that Kristin was thrilled to be the only person aside from Lucas' brother to know that he was looking for rings for Peyton. Sure, everyone in the office knew that Peyton and Lucas were together, having a child and living in the same place, but they didn't know any of the details. Lucas wanted it to stay that way.

He especially didn't want Peyton to know that he was searching for jewelers. Lucky for him, she had been on the phone all day with a custom baby furniture designer in Queens who was going over measurements and colours and whatever else. Lucas thought it adorable that she was taking everything so seriously. When he heard her almost shouting, however, it became less cute. She threw a bagel at him when he asked how things were going. He didn't ask again.

"Can you do that?" Lucas asked, just this side of patronizing.

"Yes. I'll be back in an hour," Kristin replied dutifully.

He didn't thank her before she left his office, and he couldn't find it in him to feel bad about it. He had an insane day, and this task - though it was one he was obviously thrilled to be doing - had taken up too much of his time. He knew he'd be staying late, which was something neither he nor Peyton wanted to do anymore. She got tired sooner, and he didn't want her traveling home alone if he was going to stay late and she wasn't. They'd started spending less and less time speaking to each other at the office, and they joked that if they hadn't spent so much of their time flirting, they may never have had to stay late at all.

There was a knock at his door, and he was just hanging up from talking to Nathan, telling him to keep his Saturday open to spend some time in jewelry stores.

"Kristin, there's no way you're..." He stopped himself when he saw Peyton there, looking tired and frustrated. "Hi."

"Honestly. How hard is it to get the specifics of a crib?" she asked, parking herself on one of the chairs across from him. "I just want a mahogany crib with a matching bookshelf, dresser, and change table. _Why_ is that so difficult?"

"Um...because you want a mahogany crib with a hundred specific things, a bookshelf with two racks for CDs, a dresser with brushed stainless handles and five and a half drawers, whatever that means, and..."

"OK. Fine. I get it," she grumbled. "I just want it to be perfect."

"I know, sweetheart," he said. He stood from his desk and walked over to sit next to her. "I want it to be perfect too. I don't, however, want you to be constantly stressed over this. I mean, if get a regular book shelf and a CD rack separately, then..."

"No!"

"And what _CDs_ will our baby be listening to anyway?"

"Good ones," she pouted. He reached over and placed his hand over hers on the arm of the chair. "How's your day going?"

"Not great," he admitted. "No one does anything right."

"See! _You_ hate the world too!" she said whimsically, flashing him doe eyes and turning towards him when he laughed. "Why don't we get the hell out of here and hate the world in the privacy of our own home?"

"I like when you call it our home."

"It is our home," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "Our home with...with no work, and an empty nursery and..."

There was another knock at the door. "And no assistants to interrupt," Lucas said bitterly. "Kristin. Later," he called through the door.

"What's the deal anyway?" Peyton asked. "She's been in and out of here like, 10 times this afternoon."

"Just...work stuff." He hated lying to her, no matter how much he knew he had to. "Come on. Want to leave early?"

"Um...I'm the one who suggested it," she said, as though it was a no brainer for her.

They both stood from their seats, and Peyton smiled when she saw the look in his eye. He was hatching a plan, no matter how small it may have been, and she tugged at his lapel. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him to speak into her ear.

"I'll meet you at the elevator in 10," he said, using his best scheming voice.

"I'll see you there, Mr. Scott," she said back.

It was _so_ much sexier when she said it.

----

Brooke and Peyton were sitting in Brooke's living room, sipping tea and eating ice cream. Certainly, it was an odd combination, but it was what they were both craving. Alright, it was more Peyton's craving than Brooke's, but Brooke went along with it, not only because she was afraid of what would happen if she didn't, but because eating ice cream in the middle of the afternoon at the end of March on a sunny day sounded pretty amazing.

Brooke knew that she was called in as a distraction. Lucas had gotten in touch with her days before so that she could suggest that she and Peyton hang out while Lucas went with Nathan to pick up the ring from the jeweler. Of course, he didn't tell her that right away; she'd beaten it out of him. She promised not to say anything to Peyton, and he knew she'd keep that promise.

"So the furniture?" Brooke asked.

"Ugh. Don't get me started. I mean, I know that there are a lot of pregnant women in the city who need cribs, but how in the world is there a five month waiting list for the damn things?"

"Alright. Apparently, I got you started," Brooke laughed. "Have you tried another company?"

"Another company doesn't have the right shade for the..." She stopped herself when she saw the amused and definitely smug look on Brooke's face. "Wow. I've...I'm one of those women. I'm...I obsess about paint colours and change tables. I'm momzilla!"

"You are not," Brooke said, though she couldn't help but giggle. "You just want a nice nursery. I mean, you're going to be spending a lot of time there for the next like, year."

"God. A year of not working," Peyton said, sitting back against the sofa and resting her hand on her stomach just in time to feel their baby kick. "I don't really know how to do that."

"I don't think you'll have much time to think about it." Brooke eyed Peyton's stomach with a smile. She really couldn't wait to meet and hold and spoil her niece, and she really only had a couple months to go. "I don't think it's exactly a vacation."

"No. Not exactly."

"Do you really know how to do it? I mean, most women freak out about what they're going to do once they baby's actually born."

"Most women don't have boyfriends who have bought every pregnancy and parenting book ever published," Peyton explained, making them both laugh.

"Speaking of boyfriends," Brooke started. It was time to get to the point, and she didn't intend on saying anything about Lucas' whereabouts, but she wanted to know how Peyton was going to react when she _did_ find out.

"What about them?"

"How long are you planning on pretending that you and Lucas aren't like, already married?" Brooke asked.

"What!?"

"Oh please," Brooke scoffed, her mouth full of ice cream. "You're living with him and having his baby, and you're practically shopping for matching cardigans at J. Crew."

"J. Crew?" Peyton asked incredulously.

"Whatever!"

"Listen, Lucas and I, we're...This is...I'm..."

"Stuttering," Brooke interrupted. "Peyton, you _love_ him. He loves _you_. You're _together_."

"You're very astute," Peyton said sarcastically.

"Honestly? We're going to do this? You're going to pretend you don't want the perfect ring and a wedding? That you don't want his last name?"

"Brooke..."

"Because dammit, I want that last name," Brooke added as an afterthought.

Peyton was just about to question Brooke on just exactly what that meant, when the door swung open.

"Brooke, you should see it. It's..." Nathan's voice came. "Oh. Peyton. Hi."

"Hey," Peyton said as he sat across from them. "See what?"

Peyton was looking at Nathan and missed Brooke shaking her head at him, wondering how he'd missed the part where she'd told him that she and Peyton were hanging out that day. All so that Peyton wouldn't find out what Lucas was up to. She could have killed him for forgetting.

"My um...the new suit I just bought," he said, knowing that it was a lame cover.

"You let him shop without taking you with him?" Peyton asked.

Nathan clenched his jaw. He should have known that was a horrible answer.

"Well, it's Zegna. He can't really go wrong," Brooke said, shooing Nathan a look over top of Peyton's head. "Anyway..."

"Yeah, I should go," Peyton insisted, checking the time.

"I'll drive you," Nathan said. "I'm sure Lucas wouldn't want..."

"Honestly? I'm surprised he hasn't locked me up in a padded room. The guy needs to relax," Peyton said, shaking her head and laughing. She tried to stand, but she had some difficulty, and Nathan chuckled as he stood and reached for her hand.

"Still denying my offer?" he asked once he got her standing.

"Alright. Maybe a ride home wouldn't be so bad," she admitted, and Nathan merely nodded.

"Think about that thing we were talking about," Brooke insisted as she and Peyton hugged.

"What thing?" Nathan asked.

"Her and Lucas getting married."

"Brooke! That's his _brother_," Peyton hissed.

"Exactly. Probably the one person who knows how badly Luke wants to marry you," Brooke said, putting her and on her hip, daring Peyton to challenge her.

But she couldn't. Something happened in Peyton's stomach hearing those words, and it didn't have anything to do with the baby. It wasn't like she didn't already know Lucas felt that way, but to hear it from someone else just made her feel...well, she wasn't entirely sure.

She smiled, though.

Nathan drove Peyton home, and she asked some more questions about his day. She asked where his suit was; if she could see it. He told her he'd left it at the store to get it tailored, and Peyton said 'of course', as though she should have known, and Nathan shook his head when she wasn't looking. He was coming really close to blowing everything, and he knew Lucas would never forgive him if this surprise was ruined. Although, as far as Nathan knew, Lucas was just waiting for the green light, then he'd produce the ring when Peyton said it was OK to do so. Nathan almost wanted to laugh but, well, he knew Peyton was a weird woman, as he called her so very often.

"Oh wow," she said.

"Kicking?" he asked when she placed her hand on her stomach.

For whatever reason, the baby never seemed to kick when Nathan had a real chance to feel it. Brooke got there before him, or they were in a public place and he didn't want to seem like a creep. Or the father, which is what would have happened if they were seen together. Even now, he was especially happy for the tinted windows on his Benz.

"Yeah," she said, reaching for his hand. "Here." She placed his palm on her stomach, at the side, where she'd felt the baby moving, and she watched him when the little girl kicked again. "You feel it?"

"Whoa," he whispered, his face changing to one of complete wonder. "Wow."

"Weird, huh?" she laughed. "The first time she moved, I was like...grossed out."

"Good maternal instincts," Nathan teased.

"You think it feels weird out here? Try having it inside you."

"You know, I think I'll pass," he said, making them both laugh as they pulled up to Lucas and Peyton's building. "You alright to get inside?"

"You mean press the button for the elevator? I think I'll manage," she said, and Nathan rolled his eyes. "Sorry. I just get enough of this from Luke."

"You can't really blame him, though."

"Not really. But I'm not helpless."

"True," Nathan said, smirking as he watched her try to maneuver out of the car.

"Shut up and help me, Scott," she growled. He got out of the car and walked around to grab her hand and help her stand. "Thanks."

"No problem. Anything for my _sis_," he said jokingly, laughing when she rolled her eyes.

"Not yet."

"Yet?"

She scowled at him but he just raised his brow as though he was waiting for a response.

"Yes. Yet," she repeated. "Bye, Nathan."

He waved and sent her a smile and made sure she got inside before he got back into his car. He was actually relieved to have heard her say that. She wouldn't have even mentioned it or made that kind of reassurance if she didn't honestly want to marry Lucas.

And after seeing the ring Lucas had made for her, Nathan knew that whenever it was that Lucas asked that all-important question, Peyton wouldn't be saying no.

----

The baby's furniture arrived on a Tuesday morning and was left in boxes in the nursery while Lucas and Peyton went to work. She IM-ed Lucas all day, complaining that she wished they were home setting up the room and making sure everything was right. Truthfully, Lucas - however excited he was that things were getting done - wasn't thrilled that the company they'd bought the furniture from couldn't assemble it for them. They'd (well, he'd) found a company in Toronto that sold amazing custom pieces and they could do exactly what Peyton wanted. That just meant that it had to be shipped across the border instead of across town, and that there were no employees to put it together.

Which meant Lucas had to do it.

Peyton insisted that it would be a great 'moment' for them; one of those things that they would look back on and remember about their pregnancy. They both knew she was just trying to make it seem more fun than it was going to be.

They'd painted the room a very, very pale blue. So pale it was basically white, with just a hint of blue. Lucas laughed and told her it was hilarious that she wanted blue for their little girl's room, and she told him that those standards were outdated and that their little girl could have whatever colours she wanted; whatever _anything_ she wanted. Lucas knew that was true. He knew their baby was going to be more spoiled than any other kid around.

"OK. This is like, assembly for dummies," Peyton said with a laugh, sitting in the big, comfortable rocking chair in the corner of the room. She had the instructions in her hands, much to Lucas' dismay. How the hell was he supposed to put things together if she had the directions?

"Helps if I have that," he said, reaching over and plucking the page from her hand.

"Wow. A man who follows direction?" she said in shock. "I really do have one of the good ones."

"You're just realizing this now?"

"I like to be reminded." He laughed and shook his head as he reached for one of the slats for the crib. "Can you believe we only have like, a month to go?"

"A month and a half."

"Still."

"It's kind of flown by," he said. "I mean, I don't know about you...It's been..."

"No. It has," she agreed. "Are you scared?"

"Scared about what?" he asked, as though the concept was absurd.

"OK, I'll take that as a no," she said with a laugh.

"I can't wait," he said, getting up and walking over to her, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his. "Know why? She's going to be gorgeous. And you're going to be perfect with her."

"You think?" she asked, biting her lip adorably.

"Are you kidding? Of course."

"You're going to make her a daddy's girl," she said with confidence. "It'll be cute."

"You bet your ass it'll be cute." He leaned up to kiss her, and when he tried to pull away, she grabbed the front of his tee shirt and pulled him back towards her. "OK," he said after she'd let him go. "You need to get out of here."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're just one gorgeous, sexy distraction, and I want to get this done sometime tonight," he explained.

She loved that he still called her things like gorgeous and sexy even though she was almost eight months pregnant. The best part was, she actually felt like he really believed it.

"Alright, fine. I'll go have a snack and watch the basketball game."

She laughed when he groaned. He was already missing being _at_ the game (he and Nathan had season tickets for the Knicks, too), though he wasn't going to complain about that, and now she was going to sit there in their living room and watch it without him. Wearing those shorts and that tee shirt. His tee shirt. His Knicks tee shirt. That she stole and wouldn't give back.

He loved that she turned the television up loud enough so that he could at least hear the commentary. She'd mute the sound and shout to him during commercials, asking how things were going. He'd smile to himself and shake his head.

He managed to get the crib put together without too much trouble, but it took him long enough that he couldn't get anything else done. When he called her into the room to look at the finished product, she wrapped her arm around his waist and they stood there, admiring his handy work. The crib was exactly what she had been searching for since Christmas. She loved that he'd been the one to find it.

"You remember that thing you told me to let you know about?" she asked quietly.

"Um...I believe I do," he said. If she'd been looking at him, she would have seen a smile.

"It's kind of on the table," she admitted. "Or at least...close to the table."

"Well like...how close?" he asked. "Like on the silver platter, being carried by the waiter? Or in the kitchen being prepared, or..."

"Luke." She swatted his arm and he laughed a little.

"OK," he said, and he meant it on more than one level. "OK."

----

By Friday, they'd managed to get all the new furniture assembled and placed correctly in the room. Well, Lucas had assembled it, and Peyton had told him where she wanted everything, and there really wasn't any room for argument or discussion. He knew better than to question her choices, and the nursery looked amazing when it was done. Now all that was left were a few little decorations, but other than that, they were pretty much ready for the baby to arrive.

That night, they were laying in bed, him reading _The Bell Jar_, and her with a paperback in her hand that Lucas insisted was 'chick-lit'. She didn't really care what he called it, it was an easy read, and it made her laugh, and it was a hell of a lot less intense than _The Bell Jar_.

He suddenly got up and left his book on the night stand, and he left the room before she could ask what he was doing. He was calm as he walked to the library, but his hands started shaking when he took the ring box from his desk drawer.

He wasn't sure why he thought that was the right moment, but with their conversation from earlier in the week, and what Nathan had told him Peyton said, he just knew she would say yes. For some reason, with her sitting next to her in their bed after spending their evening preparing for the arrival of their baby, he just couldn't wait any longer to bring it up. He took a deep breath as he opened the box to look at the ring that he knew was perfect, then he snapped it shut and made his way back to the bedroom.

He made no effort to hide the box as he walked back through the door, and when she looked over at him, no doubt to ask what he was up to, she saw what he had in his hand, and she couldn't find words to say.

He got down on one knee right there next to her side of the bed, and he smiled when she did.

"Luke..."

"Peyton...Wow, you'd think I would have prepared a speech or something," he said, making her laugh, though she was really trying not to cry. "You know I want to marry you." She smiled and nodded at him and reached over to place her hand on his cheek. "So will you marry me?"

"Yeah, I'll marry you," she almost whispered.

He leaned forward and kissed her, then sat next to her on the bed and wiped her cheek where a tear had fallen. He opened the ring box and took out the perfect, princess cut diamond. It was flanked by two smaller rubies of the same cut, and set in platinum.

"Lucas," she said softly.

"The rubies are from a pair of earrings Keith gave my mom," he explained, and she started crying again. She had absolutely no idea how he thought of these things.

"I love it."

"Yeah?" he asked and she could only nod. He slid the ring onto her left hand and smiled at her. "Perfect."

"Perfect." She kissed him again, and she honestly couldn't have pictured a better proposal for them. "I love you."

"Forever?"

"Yeah," she insisted as he lay down next to her as close as he could get. "Forever."


	29. Chapter 29

Lucas and Peyton were sitting at a party at Dan and Deb's place, quietly talking to one another and wondering when they could leave. It was almost funny, Lucas thought. Of course they'd throw an engagement party where Lucas didn't know anyone. Deb just liked to host. Other than Brooke and Nathan, Lucas and Peyton knew hardly anyone milling around the expansive apartment. Peyton was tired and cranky after a long day (and week) at work, and she was sipping her sparkling cider slowly because she didn't have the energy to do much of anything else.

And they had asked that no fuss be made over them. Surprise, surprise, Dan and Deb didn't listen. Peyton adored them; they'd always treated her wonderfully. This party, however, was kind of pissing her off.

"Can we go?" she asked, turning to Lucas, who had just finished his first (and only) glass of beer. "We're the guests of honour. We can do whatever we want, right?"

"Peyton, it's only been an hour," he said calmly, rubbing her back soothingly. He really did feel bad that she had to be there, that he couldn't postpone (or hell, cancel) this party that neither of them wanted in the first place.

"And three people have talked to me, and you're one of them," she muttered beneath her breath. She faked a smile when Deb looked her way, raising her crystal glass to her sort of almost mother-in-law. "You wanna elope?"

"What?" he asked with a laugh. It had been barely a week since they got engaged, and they hadn't talked about any of the plans or details at all. They'd mostly been fielding questions and congratulations.

"Luke, our wedding will be this, times ten."

"We can just tell them..."

"Because they listened so well about this," she said snidely. He raised his brow and grinned in amusement and she closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. I just...I'd really rather be in bed than anywhere else right now."

"I know," he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "And...we could do something small. Not let them run away with it."

"Like city hall small?" she asked hopefully.

"You think Brooke would let you get married at city hall?"

"Dammit."

"Yeah," he laughed.

"What about in Tree Hill?"

"You can't fly," he reminded her.

"Dammit!" she repeated.

She sighed in frustration and looked around the room at the people she didn't know, and something caught her eye. A photograph. It was the two of them from that weekend so long ago (which, as they'd discussed, may very well have been the weekend their baby was conceived). Deb had insisted she get a photo of the two of them, and that was the only one Peyton had to give.

"The Hamptons," Peyton said, as though it was all just that obvious.

Lucas pressed his lips to hers and smiled as he nodded. "Of course."

"And I am planning," she said. He laughed. She was such a control freak. Well, not freak. She just liked to be in control. "Deb and Brooke are not doing this."

"OK."

"And when I say small, I mean...Dan, Deb, Brooke, Nathan and my dad."

"OK."

"And soon."

"OK," he repeated laughing at her. "Whatever you want."

"Really?" she asked, a gleam in her green eyes.

"Of course."

"Can we go home?" He laughed and shook his head and sighed at her.

"Another hour," he bargained. "Then I'll break you out of here."

"I love that you say that like it'll somehow be discreet," she said with a laugh, looking down at her stomach. "It's not like I can sneak around looking like this."

"Beautiful?" he asked, though they both knew damn well that wasn't at all what she was saying.

People had been saying that for months and months. That she glowed. That she was gorgeous, radiant, beautiful. She never really believed anyone but him.

----

"But Peyton!" Brooke whined, stomping her foot, though they were sitting down.

It was that moment that Lucas and Nathan stepped into the apartment after a game of basketball. They shared a look and seriously thought of walking back out the door before the women noticed them. Nathan's sneaker squeaked against the polished hardwood, and Brooke and Peyton looked over.

"Lucas, _tell_ her that we are not having a stupid big ceremony!" Peyton said seriously.

"We're not having a stupid big ceremony," he said to Brooke. He leaned down and kissed Peyton. "Hey."

"Hi," she said softly. She eyed his sweaty attire and his glistening skin and he winked at her. She did love it when he worked out. Well, she loved when he came home from working out.

"Nathan, tell _them_ that they're robbing me the privilege of planning a huge wedding for my best friend just like I've been banking on since we were little girls and writing our names next to boys' in our notebooks, and..."

"Brooke," Nathan interrupted. "I can't remember all that. And also, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" she cried.

"It's our wedding. Stop it or you might not be invited," Peyton said threateningly. "When it's your wedding, you can have all the freaking...string quartets and silk tents you want."

Lucas froze in his place and looked at his brother. Nathan was the biggest commitment-phone Lucas had ever encountered in his life (though both Scott boys used to vie for that title). Lucas wasn't sure how his brother was going to handle the insinuation that he and Brooke would get married, because, let's face it, that's what Peyton was getting at.

To Lucas' surprise, Nathan didn't seem fazed at all. Maybe out of everything that had happened, that was the most surprising thing of all.

"Fine," Brooke huffed. "I _still_ don't know how you expect me to make your dress in two weeks."

"Well, maybe instead of sitting here complaining about it, you should actually get started," Peyton teased. Brooke glared at her and dropped the bridal magazine she'd been looking through onto the table.

Seeing these two women at each others' throats, Lucas was never happier that he and Peyton were getting married right away. He suspected neither he nor Nathan could take another...anything longer than two weeks of the girls bickering and talking incessantly about flowers and whatever else they needed.

That was the issue precisely. Peyton just wanted a white dress, a bouquet of white roses, an officiant and a couple rings. She didn't want a catered meal and a hundred guests and, hell, she didn't even know if she wanted a cake. She'd be two weeks from her due date when they got married, and she didn't want a big deal. At all. As long as she had a marriage license and a hand full of decent photos from the day, she was happy. Lucas felt the same, and that was what mattered.

"OK, you two maybe need a little break," Nathan suggested. "From each other."

"Don't _tell us_ what we need," Brooke said seriously. She looked up at him like he had just said the worst thing in the entire word, and Peyton crossed her arms and glared at him.

Just like that, the girls were on the same side again.

Lucas and Nathan went back to the court for a rematch.

----

The week before the wedding, Peyton officially started her maternity leave.

All this meant was that Lucas found the office weird and empty and really damn strange without her. It also meant that Peyton was going stir crazy at home. They'd call each other constantly, and they'd joke that now they were so dependent - or as Peyton said 'used to each other' - that they couldn't even make it through a day apart.

Lucas had just ended a conference call with one of his authors and her agent and there was a knock at the door. He told the person to come in without even looking up from his computer screen, and when Steve walked in, Lucas merely nodded in the man's direction.

"Lucas, I hear you're getting married," Steve said with a smile. Somehow, the news had been kept fairly quiet around the office. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Steve," Lucas said sincerely, standing to shake the man's outstretched hand. "This Saturday. Just something small."

"Not surprising," Steve laughed. Work-ethic aside, Peyton and Lucas seemed fairly low-key. "Well, I've gotten you a gift."

"Steve, that's not necessary."

"Sure it is. You're getting married and having a baby," Steve said, waving his hand in the air. He handed Lucas an envelope, which Lucas took reluctantly.

He couldn't believe his eyes when he opened that gift and saw that it was a trip for two to Tuscany, redeemable any time within the next year. There was also a clause that said they could bring an infant if necessary. There were photos of the villa that was available to them (owned by one of the artists on the label) and the surrounding areas.

"Steve, this is...This is too much," Lucas said, shaking his head. "We can't accept this."

"Nonsense. You'll go, and you'll have a great time," Steve insisted.

"Well, thank you." Lucas shook the man's hand again and Steve smiled. "This is amazing. Thank you."

"Stop thanking me. Just be happy."

Steve knew those two didn't need to be told to be happy. They just were. He was thrilled for them.

Lucas called Peyton as soon as he was alone in his office again, and he laughed at the way she answered the phone.

"Thank God!"

"Well, hello to you too, babe," he said.

"I'm _so_ bored today. There's nothing good on TV, and I can't just sit here. Tell me you have something funny to tell me. What's Janet wearing? Is it the cheetah print vest? I bet it is. She always wears it on Wednesdays."

"Peyton," he laughed. "You're...insane."

"I know! I just want the baby to come so I have something to do during the days," she said, though she was sure that in a months' time, she'd be praying for some time alone to just sit.

"Soon enough," he promised. "And I do have some news."

"You're coming home to entertain me?"

"No. But we're going to Tuscany, apparently."

"What!?"

"Steve got us a gift. 10 days in Tuscany any time within the next year," he explained.

"That's...wow," she said in complete awe. "That's so like him, though."

"I guess. It's just crazy, if you ask me. I mean, we can pay for our own vacation," Lucas said.

"It's a gift, Luke. It's nice."

"No, I know. Who knows when we'll take it," he said, making them both laugh. "Again, this is what happens when you do things out of order."

"Totally. And hey, let's just get married first before we start moving on to everything else."

"Sounds good to me," he said softly.

Truthfully, very little sounded better. He really couldn't wait for her to be his wife. He loved that she couldn't seem to wait either. Three more days and she'd be wearing his ring and he'd be wearing hers.

No one expected Peyton to go into labour two weeks early.

----

It was Friday afternoon, the day before the wedding, and it was really strange the way the pieces all seemed to come together. She'd been sitting on the sofa for most of the day, feeling little contractions here or there, which, she had read (and double checked in the books) was kind of normal for the late stages of the pregnancy, which she was certainly in.

But then they started getting a little more intense, and coming just a little more often, and she was just about to call Lucas when he strolled through the door at 3:00 after leaving work early. He had no real reason to. He had simply wanted to.

"Peyton?" he asked, seeing her sitting there, her feet up on the table and her hands resting on her stomach. He noticed a glimmer in her eye, and it looked like she was crying, or trying not to.

"So...I think I'm in labour." She bit her bottom lip and looked at him, and she wanted to laugh at the look on his face. A blank expression that was somehow adorable and sweet and anticipatory, all at the same time.

"What!?" he nearly yelled.

"I was just about to call you," she explained. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Well...shit," he said softly. Peyton laughed a little and he smiled and rushed over to kiss her quickly. "I'll get your bag. Stay right there."

"It's not like I'm gonna run a marathon or something!" she called after him.

He had absolutely no idea how she was so calm. He certainly wasn't. He was freaking out. He was excited and nervous and fucking terrified. He was trying to remember all those things they'd read and learned over the last eight and a half months.

And why the hell was their baby coming early? He was a little worried. He knew two weeks weren't really a big deal. Well, he hoped as much.

He returned to the living room with her bag in his hand - the one she'd packed just days before, and upon his insistence - and their eyes locked across the room. They smiled at each other in recognition that they were experiencing a huge moment, a life changing event. One they were somehow so ready for, but not ready for at all.

He grabbed her hands and helped her up, and her engagement ring pressed into the side of his thumb. They burst into laughter at the exact same moment. Of course, they'd try to get married before they had the baby, but the baby would be against it.

Once again, they were doing things out of order.

----

Lucas was a pro. Peyton teased him, asking if he'd ever been through this before. He drove them to the hospital calmly. Well, on the outside he was calm, but on the inside, he was ready to honk his horn at every single person or car that got in his way. He filled out all the insurance papers and whatever else he was given. He held her hand through every contraction. He called Brooke and Nathan, Dan and Deb, and Larry. He translated medical terms that, in her state, she couldn't remember. He'd read all the same books she had, maybe more, and he knew every detail.

"I'm so glad you're the one I'm doing this with," she said shortly after a contraction.

"Yeah?" he laughed.

"You're amazing. You know that? Amazing."

"Says the woman having my baby," he said. He leaned over and kissed her sweaty forehead, then patted it with a cool, damp cloth. "You're doing great."

"I'd be...not great if you weren't here," she admitted. He just shook his head and checked his phone, reading a text from Nathan that said they'd be there soon. Everyone but Lucas and Peyton had already gone to the Hamptons for the wedding. "I'm sorry about the wedding."

He let out a laugh and looked at her like she was insane. "Are you seriously apologizing to me right now?"

"I just don't want you to think I'm doing this to get out of marrying you or something," she teased.

He kissed her gently and took her hand in his. "And you call me amazing," he said quietly.

Another contraction came, and it was a bigger one than the rest she'd had. The doctor entered the room shortly after, and told them that they might have a while to go yet. Peyton was prepared for it. She wasn't necessarily happy about it, but she was prepared.

Nathan and Brooke were the first to arrive, and they came into the room immediately. Brooke said Nathan had scared the hell out of her with his driving. He shrugged innocently and said he just wanted to meet his niece.

"Well, your niece is probably going to take her sweet ass time," Peyton said, running her hand over her stomach. "She's in a rush, then she wants it on her terms."

"Sounds familiar," Brooke said fondly, Peyton's free hand tucked into her own. "You're been the same way since you were two years old." Peyton laughed a little and nodded; they all knew it was probably true. "I know! Tell me the name."

They all laughed at that. Lucas and Peyton had told everyone they had a name picked out, but they refused to tell anyone what it was. The only person who was really not happy about that was Brooke. Everyone else was alright with waiting. Brooke asked at least once a day, to no avail.

"Not a chance. You'll get the name when she gets out of here," Peyton said. Brooke pouted. Of course.

Dan and Deb arrived, and Brooke and Nathan stepped outside after wishing Peyton one last good luck; they knew they probably wouldn't see her again until after the baby was born. Deb fussed and cried and fluffed Peyton's pillow and said she felt helpless. Dan tried to calm her down just a little, knowing she wasn't helping Peyton, and he shot his 'daughter-in-law' a wink when he finally convinced Deb to leave the room. Peyton smiled back, and Lucas just shook his head.

Her father was the last to get to the hospital, since he'd had to change his flight and come in from North Carolina. He knew better than to tell Peyton he wished he could see her before she was in so much pain, so much discomfort. Truthfully, he hated to see her like that, no matter what the end result was. He kissed her forehead and told her he'd see her soon, and the doctor came in moments after Larry left.

"Time to have a baby," she announced.

Peyton took a deep breath, Lucas held her hand tightly, and they looked at each other and she tried not to cry.

She wasn't pleasant. At all. In fact, she was a little terrifying. She was in pain and she made it known. Lucas, no matter how hard she squeezed his hand, or how much she cursed his name, was by her side and didn't complain once. She couldn't have thanked him enough, and she knew he didn't have to.

Katherine Brooke Scott was born just after midnight on the day that would have been Lucas and Peyton's wedding day.

She was loud. She was beautiful. She was blonde. She had blue eyes and tiny hands and chubby cheeks. She made her father cry (just a little bit), and her mother smile.

She was perfect.

----

"She looks like you," Peyton said, speaking to Lucas, but looking down at their daughter.

It was their second day home. The first was spent sleeping and resting and trying to get used to where to get the things they needed and just adjusting. And it was going to take more than just that one day, but the second day was better. Lucas still wouldn't really let Peyton do much, not that she really wanted to do much. She had no reason to go anywhere if she had Katherine in her arms and Lucas around to get her food and drinks and whatever else. She didn't ask much of him, though; she wanted him sitting next to her on their bed with one of them cradling their daughter.

"Are you kidding? She's all you," he insisted.

"Look at her little nose!" Peyton said with a laugh. "And her eyes are identical to yours."

"All babies have blue eyes."

"Not this kind of blue," she almost whispered, smiling when she saw the baby open those eyes and look up at her sleepily. "I swear I fall in love with her more every time she looks at me." Peyton smiled when Lucas moved closer and kissed her forehead, then Katherine's. "And maybe you a little bit."

"I don't want to go back to work," he said after a moment, pouting in a way that was so adorable, Peyton just wanted to smile and kiss his cheeks. "I don't want to go anywhere."

"You don't have to go back until Wednesday."

"I don't want to go at all."

"You know how cute you are right now?" she asked. He shrugged one shoulder and continued to pout, and Peyton started to laugh. "When did we become this couple?"

"What do you mean?"

"We...we hated each other. You called me names and I tortured you and now we have a baby."

"I never hated you," he said sincerely. "And you never hated me either."

"I tried."

"I know you did."

"You didn't make it easy," she admitted.

"I know I didn't."

"I love you." It was almost a whisper, and Katherine had already fallen back to sleep, and Lucas thought he was living a perfect life.

"I know you do," he said just before he kissed her.

He didn't tell her, but he knew they'd become this couple that first night they spent together. Well, maybe he didn't _know_ it. He'd sure hoped for it though.


	30. Chapter 30

A little over a month after Katherine was born, Brooke booked a spa day for herself and Peyton. She said Peyton's hair needed a cut, her face needed a mask, her back needed to be massaged, and she generally needed a little work. Peyton didn't know whether to be thankful, or offended. Truthfully, she missed her one-on-one time with Brooke (though it was kind of a fair trade for her time with her fiancé and daughter). She was excited to get pampered a little bit, and to gossip and talk to Brooke.

At least until the night before. That was when she kind of had a breakdown.

_Definitely_ had a breakdown.

She trusted Lucas, obviously she did, to take care of Katherine, and she knew he was excited for his first real day alone with the baby. Of course, he'd be with her when Peyton ran out for groceries or coffee or...whatever. He'd get up in the night so Peyton wouldn't have to, and he'd read to her, and he'd be with her while Peyton slept. He couldn't wait to spend a whole day, just the two of them.

He found Peyton sitting in the nursery with Katherine in her arms and tears on her cheeks as she rocked the baby.

"Peyton," he said through the mostly-darkness. It was nearly two in the morning, and he hadn't even heard her get up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she insisted, shaking her head. He knelt at her side and looked at her like he knew she was lying. "Is it wrong that I don't want to leave her?"

He let out a soft breath, almost like a laugh, and shook his head. "Of course not, sweetheart."

"I know it's you, and you're the best dad in the world," she say, smiling and running her hand through his hair. He smiled every time she called him that name. "I just haven't spent this much time away from her."

"I know."

"What if she misses me?"

"I'm sure she will," Lucas said rationally. "But I think this is more about you missing her."

"It's weird," she said, looking between him and their daughter. "You live 30 years without something, then all of a sudden you can't imagine life without it."

He wasn't sure if she was talking about him or Katherine. Probably both. "That's how I feel about my girls."

They hadn't really talked about a wedding at all - they'd had other things to think about - but Peyton had an idea, and she felt like maybe it was the perfect time to bring it up.

"You want to get married next weekend?" she asked quietly, seriously, looking him in the eye.

He smiled at her and kissed her quickly, resting his palm on her cheek.

"Yeah, I do."

She kissed him again, but they didn't say anything more about it. They just took turns kissing their daughter's perfect little cheeks, then placed her back in her crib. Peyton wrapped her arms around Lucas' waist as they walked down the hall to their own bedroom.

Lucas stretched his arms up over his head while Peyton laid back down, and she couldn't help but notice the strip of skin between his boxers and tee shirt; the way those shorts sat low on his hips and she could see the defined muscles of his stomach. He didn't notice her looking, and that may or may not have been a good thing. She wasn't sure. She almost felt bad for the guy. She definitely did. It had been a long, long time since they'd actually had sex. She couldn't yet, and she really hadn't wanted to in the later stages of the pregnancy, and he hadn't complained once, _not once_, about it.

She grabbed his arm before he could lean over to turn out the light, pulling him back towards her so she could kiss him. It was definitely different than the kisses they'd been sharing lately. It was passionate and almost frantic, and he loved it immediately. He moaned from low in his throat when he realized she wouldn't be pulling away - that it'd be more than just a simple little peck on the lips - and his hand found her hip when she ran her tongue over the seam of his lips.

"Peyton," he said, though she was kissing his lips and then his neck, and her hand had slid beneath his tee shirt. "We can't."

She pulled away a little, grinned deviously, and cupped him through his boxers. "_I_ can't. You can."

"Babe..."

"You want me to stop?" she murmured into his ear.

"No, but..."

He stopped trying to protest when she kissed him hard, then moved down his body, kissing whatever skin she could and pulling his shorts down over his hips.

He adored that she could be so caring, such a perfect mother, and still be that dirty girl he'd always known she was. Maybe he should have told her to stop - that he couldn't let her do it - but it seemed that she wanted to (which was sexy in itself) and that she wasn't going to let him stop her. And he wouldn't lie; he fucking loved that she'd go down on him at two in the morning after being up for who knows how long.

----

Peyton woke up and felt ridiculously tired. She knew that was at least partially her own fault, but she couldn't really complain about it either. She turned onto her back and noticed that she was in bed alone, and that it was close to 8:00. Brooke was set to pick her up at 9:30. She figured that was enough time to clean herself up, get dressed, eat, spend time with the two loves of her life, then head out.

When she padded into the living room, she heard Lucas talking softly in that voice that was reserved only for Katherine, and Peyton stood there in the doorway to the room. Lucas had his back to her and didn't know she was there, and she watched as he fed their little girl from her bottle. He wasn't really saying anything of any importance, but Peyton thought she just might cry, just like she felt every time she saw him with their baby.

"What do you say, Katie? Should we get mommy up?" he asked, setting the bottle on the coffee table.

"Mommy's already up," Peyton said, making her presence known.

"Oh," he said, turning around to see her there in her slip and untied satin robe. "'Morning."

"'Morning." She walked towards him and kissed him gently, then kissed Katherine. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to bathe, change, and feed her," he said. She just shook her head. He really was the best dad.

Brooke, to no one's surprise, showed up early and insisted on holding and fussing over Katherine while she waited for Peyton to get ready. Lucas sat with Brooke in the living room and the two talked for a while until Peyton emerged. Her hair was just pulled up into a pony tail and she was wearing a simple olive green tee shirt and jeans.

"Are those your Citizens?" Brooke asked in surprise, eyeing the designer denim.

"Yeah," Peyton said with a smile, one she could not hide.

"How have you lost all the weight already!?" Brooke cried.

"Not all of it," Peyton said. "Just...most of it."

Since she hadn't been working, she found she got cabin fever if she stayed inside all day. She took up walking almost immediately after Katherine was born. She'd strap the baby into the stroller and they'd walk through Central Park and through the city to run errands, and between that and the demands of being a new mom, Peyton seemed to shed the weight almost instantly. She couldn't complain about that at all.

"Alright. We should go," Brooke said after one last kiss to her niece's little cheek. She handed the baby to Peyton, and knowingly said she'd wait in the car. She was very well aware - and Lucas had just confirmed it when Peyton was in the other room - that Peyton was having a bit of a hard time with the idea of being away all day.

Peyton held her little girl close and told her to be good for her daddy, and Lucas stood, leaning against the door frame of the nursery with his arms crossed, watching her lovingly. She was putting on a brave face, but he knew it was harder than she was letting on. She lay Katherine down in her crib for her morning sleep, and Lucas wrapped his arms around her.

"We'll be fine," he told her for the hundredth time. "I'll call you if I need anything."

That was what she loved about him. He placated her before she even told him she needed him to. She was going to tell him to call, but he'd beat her to it. It was a little, simple thing, really, but it just showed her how well he knew her. She loved those reminders.

"And I'll try to get that officiant and I'll talk to Dan and Deb about this weekend," he said. She smiled widely and kissed him. She hadn't forgotten that they'd said they'd get married. She thought it was sweet that he was going to take on the 'planning', no matter how minimal.

"Alright," she said as they walked into the hall and towards the door. "If I don't go, Brooke's going to freak out."

"OK. Have fun. Relax," he said sternly, making her laugh and nod her head. "Love you."

"You too."

She kissed him one last time, then she was out the door. When she stepped into Brooke's waiting limo, she thanked her friend for understanding and giving her a minute alone to say goodbye. Brooke shrugged like it was no big deal, but it really was and they both knew that. Peyton tipped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

"Tired?" Brooke asked.

"Yeah. Last night was...Oh!" Peyton's eyes shot open and she looked over at Brooke. "Tell me you aren't busy this weekend."

"Um...no. Why?"

"Because Lucas and I are getting married."

"What!?" Brooke shouted.

"This should not come as a surprise," Peyton said with a laugh, holding up her left hand and the diamond that adorned it.

"The time frame kind of does!"

"Well, we kind of got interrupted last time."

"Yeah, but...I can't make you a dress in a week! No one can. You'll have to wear..._off the rack_," Brooke said in disgust.

"I don't exactly care," Peyton insisted. "I just want to be married to the father of my baby."

Brooke was just about to make a comment about how that could have happened months and months ago if only Peyton wasn't so stubborn, but the blonde yawned, and Brooke kinked her brow.

"Why are you so tired? I thought you said she was sleeping well."

"Yeah. She is. It wasn't..."

"You..._Wait_," Brooke said, cluing in. She knew that almost bashful, but definitely accomplished look Peyton was wearing. Brooke's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "You can't."

"I...No. I can't." She couldn't help but smile at the look on Brooke's face.

"Oh, you are the best wife _ever_," Brooke said seriously, shaking her head. "Seriously? You're taking care of a newborn and you still shell out a BJ for your sex-deprived man."

"Brooke, please," Peyton said, her cheeks going red. She'd already said too much.

"I can see why he wants to marry you."

"Brooke!"

----

Peyton and Katie were listening to The Beatles during the middle of the week. Peyton found that the little girl already responded to music, and it helped get her happy or calm her down, depending on what Peyton played. It was really no surprise. She had just put on the second side of _Help!_ when the home phone rang. Peyton assumed it was just Lucas checking in, as he so liked to do (Peyton loved that he did), so she answered the phone in a goofy voice.

"Um. Hi," Nathan laughed.

"Oh! Hey. Sorry. I thought...wow I need a life," she said, making herself chuckle. "What's up?"

"I was just checking to see if you were around. Want to do something?"

Since Katie was born, all the rumors had completely ended. The Scotts were old news, simply because Katie looked so much like her father, that any photos that were printed were captioned by saying that there was no doubting whose baby that was. Not that they really cared before, but it was a relief for Peyton and Nathan to be able to hang out, outside of their apartments, and not have to worry about what people were going to say about them.

"Um...yeah. Sure," she said, looking to the little girl sitting happily in her little bouncy chair. "It might take me a while to get ready."

"Right," he said quietly. "Well listen, I'm not too far away. I'll grab coffee and come over."

"That sounds so much better," she admitted. "I'll just have to put on jeans."

"Yeah. You'll want to do that," he said, laughing at her.

"No! I meant...well, yeah, that's what I meant, but..." She paused and sighed in frustration. "I'll see you in like, 20?"

"See ya," he said, still laughing when they hung up.

She looked down at her attire and rolled her eyes at herself. She was just wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a tee shirt. It wasn't like she was undressed or anything. Either way, she picked up Katie and walked back into the bedroom, laying the baby in the middle of the bed while she looked for some suitable clothes to wear. Katie was cooing and gurgling in that adorable baby way when the phone rang again. Peyton had - thankfully - brought the cordless phone with her into the bedroom, so she answered as she pulled a pair of jeans from her closet.

"Hey. You sound like you're in the middle of something," Lucas said.

"I'm putting on pants."

"Oh. That's too bad."

"Shut up," she laughed. "What's up?"

"Just checking in. I can hear her," he said. Peyton could hear him smiling.

"Yeah. She's a pretty happy little girl today." She tried to pull on her jeans, but stumbled a little and had to hold out her arm to brace herself against the wall. "_Fu_...shoot."

"Good catch." He was laughing at her, and she rolled her eyes. "You alright?"

"Yeah. I'm good. Just...have problems putting on real clothes, apparently," she said laughingly.

"Babe, that is _not_ a bad thing."

"Stop it," she hissed.

Truthfully, she was really hating this no sex thing. Sure, it was for her own good, and she could probably do it if she was desperate to. They were just coming up on six weeks, which was how long the doctor had told them to wait. She had her 'PP' appointment with her OB-Gyn the Friday before the wedding, and she was crossing her fingers that she'd be given the green light. She missed Lucas. Everything about being intimate with him. The way he touched her, and the things he said, and the way he said her name. Just _everything_. And truthfully, she just really wanted to have sex with her husband on their wedding night.

"What...um...what are you calling about?" she asked distractedly as she buttoned her jeans.

Lucas smiled to himself as he sat in his office. He knew that tone of voice. And she always stuttered a little bit like that when she was thinking less than pure thoughts.

"Now that I'm picturing you without pants on, I honestly can't remember."

"Lucas, don't start."

She was almost whining. He smiled again. He may not have complained once about not being able to be with her, but he certainly didn't love it. And alright, it was a fair trade to have a perfect, beautiful, healthy daughter and wife (fiancée, whatever). Even so, if he had to choose between sex or no sex, well, it was a no brainer.

Katie started crying, and there was a knock at the door, and Peyton still wasn't wearing her tee shirt yet.

"I gotta go," she said.

"Oh. Alright."

"I'm sorry, babe. Nathan's here, and I don't have a shirt on, and..."

"Put on a shirt," he said very seriously. "I'll see you later."

"Bye." She hung up before he could say anything else, threw her shirt over her head, and picked up her crying baby. "Alright. I hear ya," she said softly, cradling Katie close to her body.

She headed for the door and swung it open to see Nathan standing there looking sympathetic. They'd all come to know that if Peyton didn't answer the door right away, she was dealing with several things at once. Given that her shirt was on backwards and her hair was a disaster, Nathan assumed that Peyton was feeling a little frazzled.

"Hey," she said, still bouncing the crying little girl. "Sorry."

"No problem." He stepped inside and pushed the door closed. They made their way to the living room and he set the coffee on the table, then listened as Peyton tried to placate his niece. "Here," he said, reaching out to take the little girl.

"You sure? I don't know what's up with her." She looked at him disbelievingly, but let him take Katherine, pulling her into his arms and cradling her against his shoulder. She quieted immediately. "How did you do that!?"

"Honestly? I have no idea," he said with a laugh. "I've always been kind of good with kids."

"Really?" Peyton asked as they sat on the sofa. Sure, he'd been good with Katie, but Peyton just assumed that had something to do with him being family and caring after the little girl. She had no idea he had such a way with kids.

"Yeah. It's weird. I hold any baby like this and they stop crying," he said nonchalantly. They both knew it was kind of a big deal.

"You've got a gift," Peyton said whimsically, and he laughed again. "So what's up, Nate?"

Katherine's tiny hand came up to rest on his neck, and he laughed and ran his hand over her back. He really loved that little girl.

"I have a very serious, very secret question to ask," he admitted quietly. "If I...I mean, in theory...If I were to ask Brooke if she'd marry me..."

"Yes," Peyton answered before he could even finish.

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah. She...She'll say yes."

"OK," he whispered, sighing a little. He looked nervous and relieved and somehow terrified, but excited, and maybe a lot of other things. "I'll wait until after this weekend. I'm picking up the ring tomorrow."

"You already bought a ring!?" Peyton practically yelled. She was the one getting married in a few days, and she was ridiculously excited about Brooke even getting engaged.

"Yeah." He smiled and laughed when he realized Katie was asleep against his shoulder. "It's Cartier. Three round diamonds. Nothing crazy."

"Nothing crazy? Nathan, that's...perfect for her."

"I thought so. I found the page turned down in one of those magazines she was looking at 'for you'," he said, using air quotes and winking at her.

"Wow. She hinted," Peyton said in reverence.

"I know," he laughed. "You wanna put her down?"

"Yeah, but...Stay. We'll talk," she insisted, taking the baby from him.

Peyton knew that keeping her mouth shut about the ring and Nathan's wanting to marry Brooke was going to be really hard, but she'd do it.

Well. She tried. She told Lucas. But, as he told her, man and wife were supposed to tell each other everything. He said they were close enough that she could tell him with no issue.

----

"Hey, Peyt!" he called into the hall. "Where's her..." Peyton emerged from the bedroom with the little tiny sweater she knew he was going to ask for, and he smiled and shook his head. "We're good at this."

"Being parents? I think so."

"No. Tag team," he said as he tossed the last of Katherine's things into her little 'luggage' (bought for her by her aunt Brooke).

"Well, it's a good thing," she said, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Because we're getting married tomorrow."

She had lied to him. Not a big lie, but a lie nonetheless. She had told him that she wasn't cleared for sex yet, and he'd questioned her (she really hadn't expected that, though she probably should have) on the reasons. Her appointment was that afternoon, and she was told by her doctor that she was 'good to go'. She just didn't want to tell Lucas yet. She knew they'd get all wrapped up in one another and passion crazy and they probably would have had sex the minute Katherine was asleep.

Peyton figured it'd just make their wedding night more special if she surprised him.

"How do you think your dad's doing in the house with Dan and Deb?"

"Ah, he'll be fine," she said, running her hands over his stomach. "They get along well. They understand that we don't want to keep Katie from her bed for two nights."

"Yeah. Maybe they'll be alright," he said. He placed his hands over hers to keep her from touching him - she kept doing that, and it was making him all kinds of crazy.

"I'm more worried about Nathan and Brooke having her overnight tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it. Nathan's like the rain man of babies," Lucas reminded her, making them both laugh.

"I don't know why we're bothering," she said, walking away from him to finish packing her own things. "It's not like we really need _alone time_."

"Just because we can't have sex, doesn't mean I don't want to be alone with you," he said from where he was standing on the other side of the bed.

She got up on the bed and walked towards him, kneeling in front of him as he laughed at her antics. She threw her arms around him and kissed him, because he always said the perfect things at the perfect times.

And he was _so_ getting laid the next night. He just didn't know it yet.


	31. Chapter 31

Peyton woke up with Lucas looking down at her, and she laughed sleepily. He was like a little boy on Christmas morning. She loved that about him. She wasn't sure how she'd slept until 7:30 when Katie usually woke up around 6:00, but she realized he must have gotten up to let her sleep in. They were all ready to go, all she had to do was shower and throw on clothes so they could drive to the Hamptons house where they'd get married late in the afternoon.

"You know," she said, rolling onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow. "If people knew what you were really like, they wouldn't be so fascinated by you."

"Wow. Thanks, babe," he said, smirking at her. "I didn't think of any wedding-day mock sentiment or back-handed compliment for you."

"No," she laughed. "I mean...you're commitment crazy and mellow."

"I'm not commitment crazy. I'm marrying the love of my life."

"What's she like?" Peyton asked. It was a throwback to the early stages of their relationship, nearly a year ago, when she'd teasingly ask him the very same question, or he'd ask her, and they'd each refuse to say.

This day, their wedding day, he decided to play along.

"Well," he said, resting his hand on the curve of her waist. "She's an amazing mother."

"Oh?" she asked coyly.

"Mhmm." He moved a little closer and pressed his lips to hers quickly. "Beautiful. Smart. Stubborn in a _really_ good way. She makes me laugh like no one else."

"Hmm."

"Sexy as _hell_," He kissed her again, brushing her hair aside as she lay on her back again. He moved his lips to her neck, and she took a breath. "Most...perfect...woman...ever."

"Well, you should hang on to her," Peyton said softly.

"Oh, I intend to," he said, his tone husky. His eyes were dark, and his hand was over her stomach, and he pressed his body against hers as he kissed her heatedly.

"Luke," she breathed out.

She really, really did not want to stop. Knowing she didn't _have_ to was the worst part. She still wanted their night to be special, though, and so she regrettably placed her palm on his chest and pushed him a little bit.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, running her hand through his hair.

"No. I shouldn't have..."

"Well, I _did_ like finally hearing your reasons."

"Please," he scoffed. "As if you needed them."

"Not really," she admitted. She stood from the bed before he could stop her, and she wrapped her silk robe around her body. The body he loved, worshipped, even. The body he couldn't wait to have again. _Dammit_, she was gorgeous.

"You sure you don't want to tell me about the love of _your_ life?" he asked, grinning as he lay back against the pillows. She turned to him right before she walked out the door and smiled in that way that let him know she was about to make a joke.

"I'll let you know when I find him."

She heard him laughing as she walked down the hall.

She loved that it was pretty much just like any other day.

When Peyton stepped into the nursery, she smiled and shook her head when she saw Katherine laying there with her fist in her mouth, awake and quiet and happy just to hang out in her crib. She was a pretty mellow baby, that was for sure.

"Hi, baby girl," Peyton cooed, reaching down to tickle Katie's little belly. She picked up the girl, made sure she didn't need changing, and then walked back into the bedroom, where Lucas was still laying on the bed, exactly how Peyton had left him. "Maybe daddy wants to hold you while mommy takes a shower."

"I suppose I could make room in my busy schedule," he joked, taking the baby from Peyton as she laughed.

She stepped into the shower, and Lucas sat in bed for a few minutes, talking to his daughter, though it was silly. He figured every new father did that very same thing. It wasn't anything important, and sometimes he'd just say things to hear his own voice, but it didn't matter. She knew his voice, too; she knew her daddy.

He got up, holding Katie against his chest, and decided to make Peyton breakfast. Since the early stages of her pregnancy, she'd been in love with mushroom omelets, and she insisted Lucas made the best ones. He knew she wasn't lying; his omelets were damn good. He wasn't sure how he managed (apparently, he was a more talented multitasker than he'd thought) but he made their breakfast without ever really setting Katie in her chair. Of course, he'd had to set her down to chop things and crack eggs.

But it was all very worth it when Peyton stepped into the kitchen and saw breakfast on the table, complete with coffee and orange juice.

And she noticed a rectangular baby blue box sitting next to her plate.

"What did you do?" she asked with wide eyes.

"It's a wedding gift."

"Lucas." She shook her head, but he kissed her and told her to just sit down and open it. He watched as she pulled the white ribbon from the box, then pulled off the top. "Luke..."

It was a diamond tennis bracelet. The quintessential Tiffany diamond tennis bracelet, set in platinum.

"It's pre-emptive," he said, only halfway serious.

"It's...beautiful," she whispered, staring at it. "Thank you." She leaned across the table and kissed him, both of them laughing when Katie pulled her hear. "I got you something, too."

"I don't need anything," he insisted honestly.

"Too late," she said.

She went to get up from her place, but he stopped her. He kissed her again and helped her fasten the bracelet, and she just shook her head again. He was just happy she liked it. And alright, he may have been hoping that it actually would get him out of a couple fights, though he'd never, ever bring it up in his defense. According to Nathan, it did kind of work that way every once in a while. The brothers joked with one another, saying that maybe they should just put more work into not pissing off their girls.

She stood and rushed down the hall into 'her' room, the one with all those records, and returned with a package wrapped in brown shipping paper. She handed it to him and took the baby from him, and he looked at her questioningly.

"Just open it!" she cried. He was such a dork. He'd done the same thing at Christmas - shaken or inspected every gift.

He tore back the paper, and there in a protective plastic sleeve was an impossibly old looking copy of Anna Karenina.

"It's a first edition," she told him.

"What?" he asked in shock, holding the book like it was gold. "These, like...don't exist."

"You just have to know who to call," she said, smirking devilishly. "And it helps to have an assistant that speaks five languages."

"How did you...Where did you get this?"

"Luxembourg," she admitted sheepishly. "But I know it's the only edition you didn't have, so...I thought you should have it."

"Peyton, this is...it's too much," he said. He was shaking his head and looking between her and the book, unsure of which was more precious. Really, it was no contest, no matter what value that book held.

"How much did you spend on the bracelet, Luke?" she asked with a raised brow. He could only laugh. She had him there.

"Thank you," he said quietly after a moment.

He kissed her quickly and got up out of his seat to take the book to his library, setting it on the shelf in the right order, first in front of all those other copies of the same book. This one was far more valuable for a lot of different reasons.

He really couldn't believe how lucky he was to have found her. And looking at the smile on Peyton's face as they sat at the table eating breakfast, with her stealing glances at the diamonds on her wrist, he honestly couldn't picture them ever getting in another argument again.

----

Peyton had just had Brooke zip her dress for her. It was a flowing, satin, white, off the rack dress. It was simple, and Peyton adored it. Brooke was disgusted that Peyton paid a mere $200 for her wedding dress from a completely unknown little shop in Brooklyn. But even Brooke could admit that Peyton looked amazing in it. $200 or $20,000, it was a white dress, and that was all Peyton really needed, and everyone knew that.

"Can I just have a minute?" Peyton asked. They were standing in 'Lucas and Peyton's' room at the Scott's Hamptons House, in front of the full length mirror, just looking at each other.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I just need a sec."

"This isn't...cold feet or anything, is it?" Brooke asked seriously.

"No!" Peyton insisted quickly. "No. I just...need to breathe."

"OK. Breathe away," Brooke said. "I'll see you out there."

Brooke gave Peyton's hand one last squeeze, then walked out of the room, and Peyton sat on the end of the bed for a few minutes, just trying to...Well, she wasn't exactly sure what she was trying to do. She just knew she wanted a few minutes of quiet, but as soon as she was alone there, it felt like too much. She smiled when Nathan walked into the room. But then her face fell; he was supposed to be watching Katie.

"Where's...?"

"Mom has her," he assured her. She stood up and he looked her over once. "You know you look amazing, right? I don't have to get all sentimental and shit."

She laughed and shook her head. "This is why I love you, Nate."

"Tell it like it is," he said.

"Exactly."

"We ready to do this? Because he's driving me insane pacing."

"Why's he pacing?" she asked with a laugh. "He's such a geek."

"Well, it's not like you were quick to agree to this. He probably thinks you're going to back out." He was absolutely joking, and she smiled at him.

"No way." She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her hair, which she'd left down and in its natural wave, and then turned back to Nathan. "Bring me my daughter, and tell Lucas to go stand outside."

----

Peyton didn't carry flowers. She carried a little girl in a white dress with blue flowers printed on it. She was supposed to hand Katherine over to Brooke once she was standing next to Lucas, but she refused, making everyone laugh.

She didn't have her father give her away, either. She didn't like that tradition, and everyone laughed when she explained it, but they all loved that she was so insistent. The way she saw it, she had never needed a man to look after her, and she wasn't property and she, nor any other woman, was meant to change hands.

After hearing that, Lucas and Larry decided to keep it a secret that Lucas had asked her father's permission.

So she stood there with her daughter in her arms, looking at Lucas looking at her like she was the most beautiful person in the world, and they exchanged simple vows and rings. The whole thing took all of 15 minutes. It was exactly what they wanted.

Lucas kissed her when he was told to, and he kept kissing her, over and over, until Brooke came over and forced them apart only long enough to take Katie from Peyton's arms. Then the bride threw her arms around Lucas' neck and the two of them stood there, making out like teenagers while the other five people (plus baby) - the only people invited - headed inside to start getting ready for dinner.

"I love you," she said between kisses. "So...so..._so_ much."

"You are amazing, Peyton Sawyer."

"Scott."

"What? Really?"

"We're married, aren't we?"

"I guess I just thought you'd want to keep your name," he said sheepishly. "I'm so glad you want mine."

"Good," she whispered. She kissed him again, just because she wanted to, and he was smirking when they parted.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you love me?" he asked, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes, but kissed him again, making him pull her closer instinctively. She didn't care that they were just standing on the middle of the lawn while their family waited inside. This was their day, and she wanted to savour every second.

"You're a better father than I could have hoped you'd be," she told him. "You're brilliant. Generous. Stubborn in a really good way." He laughed, and she ran her hands down his back to lock tightly around his waist. "You make me laugh. You don't make me cry."

"All true."

"And you are _the_ sexiest man I have _ever_ seen," she said quietly, looking at his lips. "I love you."

"So I've heard," he teased. Her jaw dropped, and she shoved him as they laughed. "I love you, too."

"Say it again," she requested.

"I love you."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn't think she'd ever get sick of hearing him say those words.

They walked inside the house and into the dining room, where the table was set with china and all sorts of glasses and silverware and there were little bouquets of three white roses in front of each place setting. Deb had insisted that the wedding could be small, but she wanted a formal dinner, even if there were only eight (including Katie) people there. Peyton didn't argue. She was glad, seeing the table all decorated. It was tasteful and beautiful, and it somehow made things really special. More special.

Nathan had the baby girl held against his shoulder, but as soon as she saw her mother, she was done with him. He couldn't be offended. He passed the baby to Peyton, then Deb handed her a glass of champagne.

"We got you a gift," Deb announced once they were all gathered and had crystal glasses in their hands to toast with.

"Just a little something," Dan said, though he was smirking.

Lucas looked at them questioningly. Dan pulled a few piece of paper, folded in thirds, out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and handed them to Lucas. He took the pages, set down his glass, and unfolded them, then his eyes went wide. Peyton was intrigued, to say the least.

"The house? This house? You're _giving_ us this house?" Lucas asked quickly. "That's...we can't accept this."

"The hell we can't!" Peyton said, making them all laugh.

"We never come here anymore," Deb said rationally. "Brooke has her own place here now, so Nathan doesn't need this one. It just makes sense to keep it in the family."

"Well...thank you," Lucas said, crossing the room to hug his father and step-mother. Peyton did the same. "This is crazy."

"Thank you," Peyton echoed, hugging Dan with one arm as the other held Katie.

It was a huge gesture, but the house held memories for them. Lucas insisted that was where he first knew he was in love with her. Peyton knew that he wasn't lying; she'd felt that little change between them that weekend. And they really did believe that was when their daughter was conceived, given the math and the timing of everything. She really couldn't wait to spend summer weekends in that house, letting Katie run and play in the yard when the time came. It was a big gift, but a perfect one.

The other gifts they received were equally as amazing. Larry passed down he and Anna's wedding china, a pattern Peyton had always loved and always wanted. Brooke and Nathan offered 10 days of baby sitting or whenever Lucas and Peyton decided to take that trip to Tuscany. They also produced tickets for a trip for all of them - Brooke, Nathan, Lucas, Peyton and Katie - to visit Tree Hill in the spring. Peyton couldn't have thought of a better gift from Brooke than introducing the little girl to her hometown.

Once dinner was over and everyone had had enough to drink, everyone but Lucas and Peyton went to Brooke's place for the night.

The married couple spent their first night alone in the house they now owned.

Lucas stepped into the bedroom after locking all the doors, and he was loosening his tie. "I can't believe they gave us this house."

"I know," Peyton said. She was standing in front of the mirror again. "I can't believe how much I love this $200 dress."

Lucas laughed and walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. "You look beautiful." She smiled and mouthed a thank you. "Wife."

"That's so weird," she said with a laugh. "You can't call me that yet."

"Why not?"

"Because...it's too new. I need time to adjust."

"Time to adjust," he stated incredulously.

"How do _you_ like it, _husband_?" she asked, turning to look at him and placing one hand on her hip.

"I think it sounds pretty fucking good, actually," he said seriously.

He took off his jacket and tie, but when he went to unbutton his shirt, she took his hands in hers to stop him. She was suddenly nervous, but excited and happy and...well, she wanted to get things going here. It had been long enough, and it was her wedding night.

"So I maybe got you more than just the book," she admitted, looking into his eyes.

He knew that look. His heart started beating faster.

"What are you saying?"

"I kind of lied," she said, scrunching her nose in hopes of being cute. "I wanted tonight to be special, so I said..."

She was cut off when he kissed her hard, and she didn't complain one bit. She couldn't. She wanted him to kiss her.

"I'm OK with this lie," he said, resting his forehead against hers. "Are you sure?"

"The doctor is."

"Are _you_ though?"

She loved how concerned he was. She knew that if she told him she wanted to wait or she wasn't ready, he would have been just fine with that. Well, maybe not_ just fine_, but he wouldn't complain. Not out loud.

"This is...this is why," she said. He looked at her like she was crazy for a second. "I love you."

He was going to say it back, but she cut him off by kissing him and draping her arms over his shoulders, pressing herself against him. His wrapped around her waist, holding her close in a way that somehow felt new. It felt like he hadn't honestly held her that way in ages, and he wasn't sure why that was. Sure they still kissed and touched each other, and they hadn't lost that spark between them, but he hadn't held her this close - mostly to keep his own sanity - in months. Months and months. Since the early stages of the pregnancy when she still wasn't showing.

He didn't know how long they stood like that, just holding each other and kissing, but it was a while. It was as though they wanted to get to know those parts of each other again. It kind of amazed him that they'd managed to go without for so long. He was just really damn glad that was all over.

She kissed a line down his chest as she undid the buttons of his shirt, then stood back up as she pulled his shirt tails from his pants. He rest his hands on her cheeks, pulling her back in for a kiss, then burying his fist in her blonde locks. He kissed her neck, paying special attention to the places he knew she loved, while she pushed his shirt over his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

As soon as he realized she was wearing more than him - well, she was more covered up than he was - he pulled away from her and spun her around so her back was to him. He kissed along her shoulders and her neck as he tugged down the zipper of her dress. He carefully slipped his fingers beneath the delicate little straps over her shoulders, and he slid them down her arms. The dress fell to the floor and he turned her around again.

She wasn't wearing anything under the dress. Not a stitch. The only things on her body were her wedding and engagement rings, and the bracelet he'd given her. Only his girl would go completely naked under her wedding dress. Well, maybe not only her; she was just the only one that he cared about.

"You...God," he said in reverence, eyeing her body appreciatively. He knew she was self-conscious, though she'd lost very nearly all the weight from her pregnancy, and had almost gotten her figure back already. "So, so sexy."

"I think this'll be a lot like our first time," she said, reaching for his belt to pull him closer.

"Hmm?" He was totally distracted. She loved that.

"I just want to have sex with you," she said softly, locking eyes with him. "We can do everything else later."

He nodded in agreement before he pressed his lips to hers. "And the no underwear," he added once they'd broken apart.

"That too."

She lay down on the bed after she'd pushed the waistband of his pants and let them pool at his feet. He immediately covered her body with his, letting his hand caress her thigh when she bent her leg. He kissed her and smiled against her lips. He was really, really glad that she was insisting they forgo foreplay. Again. He kind of loved, too, that it was all one big throwback to that first night together.

"I'm scared," she admitted after she'd removed his boxers.

"We don't have to." He didn't want to say it. He didn't want her to be scared.

"No. No, I want to," she assured him. "But what if it's not the same?"

"Peyton," he said, shaking his head. He had no idea how she could doubt that sex between them would be amazing. He could understand her concern, but he wasn't worried about it. Not that he was in any frame of mind to be thinking too clearly.

"I feel like a virgin or something," she said, laughing at how absurd it was.

"Yeah, I think the secret's out," he said, referring to the fact that they had a baby. "We'll go slow."

She nodded weakly and kissed him softly, and he told her he just wanted to kiss her for a while. She subsequently told him that if he didn't make love to her _right now_, she was divorcing him. They compromised. They spent the next...however long...just kissing, making out like teenagers. Well, maybe not quite. They were both naked, and they were unable to keep their hands from gravitating to certain places. They both seemed to find it unbearable at the exact same moment.

Neither said a word. He just kissed her, almost like a reassurance, and touched her cheek gently as he entered her. She closed her eyes, savouring the feeling of him inside her again after so long not having him. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he was just watching her, maybe waiting for her to be comfortable enough for him to move again, but also making sure she was still alright.

The way she kissed him and the way she moved her hips against his let him know she was better than alright. He did what she was wordlessly asking him to do, starting slowly, then moving a little faster upon her prompting. She told him in raged breaths that she didn't need him treating her like she was going to break. That was all the encouragement he needed.

He hitched her leg up a little further to sink deeper into her, and she let out a moan. That sound proved that there was nothing for him to worry about; she was enjoying this as much as he was. It was a relief. He relaxed after that, let go of his concern and let himself just enjoy being with his girl. Woman. Wife.

It wasn't too long before Peyton was clutching his back, letting her nails rake down his skin just enough to be sexy, telling him that she was close and that she wanted him to come with her. When he clasped his right hand with her left one, and his fingers grazed those two rings, his heart and mind and body was just all about her, and they were both coming and saying each others' names, the syllables overlapping.

They kissed afterward, with him still inside her, and her still holding him like she wanted him there, and when he finally took his place next to her, they were both still breathless, sweaty, and just _happy_.

"All the books said most women don't enjoy sex the first time after the baby's born."

"I guess we're overachievers," he said jokingly. She laughed and then kissed him and settled into his side, draping her leg over his a little bit.

"A whole night without her," Peyton said softly.

"You want to sleep don't you?" he asked.

"I really do," she admitted.

"Thank God," he said, and they both laughed.

It may have been their wedding night, and yes, they'd both thoroughly enjoyed it, but they were also both exhausted from nightly feedings and tending to their daughter. Sleep seemed like the most amazing way to cap off their perfect day.

**----  
**

**A/N:** So this was the last 'real chapter'. Next chapter will be a long-ish epilogue.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N:** Here it is. The epilogue. The final piece of the story. Enjoy. Thank you guys for reading!! You've been awesome, especially those who took the time to review.

**----**

When Katie was seven months old, Lucas and Peyton decided to take that trip to Tuscany. It was a bit of a strange time of year to go, but spending ten days in Italy in January seemed like a good idea, given that they already had a trip to Tree Hill planned for April. They didn't want to miss their window of opportunity to take the trip they'd been given, so they booked their flights and arranged to stay in their 'villa', and it was all set.

Nathan and Brooke - engaged and planning the 'wedding of the year', according to The New York Post, for the coming summer - offered to take care of Katie while Lucas and Peyton were away. They had it all worked out. They'd just bought a penthouse together, and they had already insisted that one of their five bedrooms would be Katie's. They bought a crib and everything they'd need to take care of the little girl.

A week before they were set to take off, Peyton started freaking out just a little bit.

She had just put Katie down and was watching her sleep, when she realized that there was no way she could be away from her daughter for 10 days. No way. Sure, they had spent a couple nights apart since the baby was born, but _10 days_? She just couldn't do it.

"She's coming with us," Peyton announced as she walked back into she and Lucas' bedroom.

"What?" he asked, lowering the manuscript he was reading.

"Katie. I can't leave her, Luke," she said almost desperately.

He smiled at her and pulled her into his side when she sat down next to him on the bed, and he kissed the crown of her head. He laughed a little bit. He really didn't want to leave Katie either; he'd just been putting on a brave face because he thought Peyton was fine with it.

"OK."

"OK?"

"We'll bring her with us," he said quietly, holding her a little closer when she sighed in relief. "I don't want to leave her either."

"How come you didn't say something?"

"I thought you wanted it to be just us."

"I thought I could do it. But...it's too soon," she admitted.

"How did I not know you felt that way?" he asked. They told each other pretty much anything they were thinking. He definitely thought it odd that they hadn't shared this big fear with one another.

"I don't know."

"No more secrets," he said seriously, locking eyes with her. She smiled and nodded her head.

They were still getting used to the 'being married' thing. Sure, it had been almost six months, but there were still little things that would come up every once in a while. Peyton insisted she liked it that way, that little element of surprise. But with things like this, they obviously should have been communicating. What she loved most about their marriage was that neither of them got upset over little miscommunications. They didn't have them often, and that was probably why they were able to forgive each other so quickly, if forgiveness was even needed.

"Nathan'll be upset," Peyton said.

"Probably."

Lucas laughed, knowing that it was true. Nathan loved his niece almost more than anything in the world. Since he didn't work and Peyton was still on maternity, he spent a lot of time with those two girls. If Peyton had any errands or appointments to get to, it was Nathan she left Katie with. And that little girl loved her uncle. He really did have a way with her. Her face would light up when she saw him or her aunt Brooke.

But all of that didn't hold a candle to how she felt about her father. She was already a daddy's girl, just like Lucas had promised she'd be. She'd squeal and coo every day when he came home from work, and the first thing he usually did was pick her up and kiss her little nose. It was their routine. A few times, he came home and she was sleeping, and Peyton had to laugh at the way he was almost pouting about missing those little moments. He'd just said that the best part of his day was always coming home to his girls.

And so they packed enough baby supplies for two weeks - 'you never know', Peyton had said - and booked a slot for Katie on the plane, and the little family spent 10 days in beautiful Tuscany. It was their first vacation all together, and it was perfect. They got amazing photos and amazing memories, and Peyton thought it was actually really cool that their little girl was already a world traveler, even before her first birthday.

----

Nathan wasn't surprised at all when Lucas and Peyton asked him to be their 'manny' when Peyton went back to work. He didn't love the title, however.

Peyton didn't love any of it at all.

She absolutely trusted Nathan, and she knew she had nothing to worry about as far as leaving Katie in his care. She'd just gotten used to not working, spending all her time at home taking care of their daughter, and as much as she loved her job, she loved her daughter more.

As she pulled on her new suit - one that Lucas loved, since it was tailored perfectly - for her first day back, she came up with a plan.

"You think Steve'll negotiate?"

"Negotiate what, babe?" Lucas asked with a furrowed brow as he tied his tie.

"Well, no one has really been doing my job," she explained. "Well, they have been, but it's kind of been delegated around internally."

"Right."

"And I can work from home and just go to the office only when I need to."

"OK," he said with a smile. He knew where this was going.

"So maybe I can talk to him and see if we can find some middle ground or something." She shrugged her shoulders as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and he walked over and kissed her quickly.

"I love how much you love our daughter."

"I'm sensing a _but_, here."

"But she'll be _fine_," he told her. "And you've missed working."

"I'll miss her more," she said, almost pouting.

"I know." He kissed her again, because she was just the best mother. "To be honest, I think Steve would cry if you told him you wanted to cut back your hours in the office. He's hated not having you around."

"I know," she said quietly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I need to go back to work. I can't be with her every second of every day."

"Well, you could," he reminded her. "If you wanted to quit your job."

He hadn't brought it up, fearing that it would cause a huge argument, but he made enough, and they had enough money that if she wanted to quit working and be a stay-at-home mom, she absolutely could. He'd just assumed that, given how much she loved her job, she wouldn't want to do it. This separation anxiety, however, had him wondering if he should just throw the idea out there, just in case it was something she might want to do. He wanted to let her know that it was definitely alright with him if that was a choice she wanted to make.

"What?" She almost laughed. It wasn't crazy. She wanted to pretend it was.

"You could. That's all I'm saying," he said gently, shrugging one shoulder. They heard Katie babbling in her room through the baby monitor, and they smiled at one another. As they made their way down the hall, he said, "it's just something to think about if you want to."

"I love that you are willing to support us, but...I've missed working. You're right." He walked into the nursery before her, and she took note of the way his jacket fit him, and the way he wore his pants. "You know what I've missed most?"

"What's that?" he asked distractedly.

"Flirting with you in the office," she said, wrapping her arms around him.

"Oh, I've missed that too," he admitted in a low voice. "In fact, if you come into my office today and demand that we have sex on my desk..."

"That was a one time only thing!" she proclaims. "And don't say that word in front of her."

He laughed and shook his head, and she watched as he picked Katie up out of her crib, a task that was getting easier and easier now that the girl could pull herself up and stand, clutching the railing.

"Well, whatever you decide, Peyton," he said with a smile. "You know I'm with you either way, if you want to quit working or not."

"Thank you," she said softly. She kissed him quickly, then blew a raspberry on Katie's cheek, making the girl laugh and smile. There was a knock at the door, and Peyton grinned at her daughter. "Nathan's here."

They both laughed when Katie's face lit up upon hearing that name. The three of them walked out to the kitchen, and Peyton poured two cups of coffee and began preparing Katie's breakfast while Lucas answered the door.

"You're early," Lucas said.

"I didn't want to be late on my first day of work. So, $20 an hour, right?" Nathan joked. Katie held her little hand up to him, and he smiled as he pressed his palm against hers.

"Funny," Peyton said. "You want anything? Coffee? Water? Dry Cheerios and banana slices?" She laughed and gestured to Katie's little breakfast tray, and Nathan shook his head.

The four of them sat there and chatted for a while until Lucas and Peyton had to leave for the office, and Peyton picked Katie up and spoke softly, telling her she'd be back later and to be good for Nathan, though it was silly. She probably didn't fully understand what was going on, and she was always good. Peyton had just handed Katie to Nathan when it happened.

Katie's first proper word.

"Mama."

The three adults froze in their places, and Katie reached out her arms to her mother. She certainly knew Peyton was leaving. Peyton didn't hesitate to take the girl in her arms again, holding her close.

Lucas would have almost bet money that Peyton was going to call Steve then and there and tell him she quit. Lucas gave her a few moments just to hold Katie, then walked over to them and kissed the little girl's forehead again.

"You're really trying to make this even harder, aren't you?" Peyton said, speaking to her daughter.

"I told you mama would be her first word," Lucas said smugly. Peyton had insisted Katie would say dada first. Lucas knew better than that. Mother and daughter had an extremely close relationship, which probably accounted for the way Peyton's eyes were gleaming with pride. "But, we do have to go."

They left after a couple more kisses and telling Nathan to call if he needed anything at all, and Peyton threw her arms around Lucas when they were in the elevator heading to their parking garage. He laughed and asked her what that was all about, and she kissed him and told him it was just because she was happy. He really couldn't do anything but wrap his arms around her.

She made it through the day with no problem. She only had one surprise the whole day, and it was a good one. Lucas hadn't told her, but he'd had the nameplate on his door replaced, almost immediately after they wed, to read Peyton Scott. She loved that surprise.

Her day was mostly just her trying to get her bearings again, and getting caught up on what she'd missed when she was on mat leave, but it really did feel good to be working again. And it did feel really good to flirt with Lucas in the office again, too. Of course, the element of danger was almost entirely erased by the fact that everyone knew they were married, but it was still fun to wink at him when he brought her a coffee, or to have him settle his foot next to hers in a meeting in the boardroom with the other senior staff.

Most of all, she felt that it was nice to have something that was hers again. Sure, it was work, and it wasn't really hers, but it felt like it was. She was damn good at what she did, and she'd worked hard to get to where she was, and it was nice to focus on that. She'd do anything for her daughter, but she knew that her working wasn't causing Katie any harm, so she stopped feeling guilty about being away from her.

And everyone - she, Lucas, and Nathan - was surprised that she only called home once to check in and see how things were going.

She realized, that first day back, that loving her job didn't mean that she loved her daughter any less. And the way Katie said 'mama' over and over again as soon as Peyton stepped through the door after work made her feel a whole lot better.

----

Katie was walking in time to be a perfect little flower girl at Brooke and Nathan's wedding. She was dressed in an amazing little white dress with a dark purple sash that matched the flowers and her mother's dress. Peyton held Katie's hand as they walked down the aisle, and when they got to the altar, Katie went straight to her father. It wasn't part of the plan, but everyone chuckled a little bit, and Lucas lifted her up into his arms anyway. They all knew Brooke wouldn't care.

There were tears in Peyton's eyes as Brooke walked down the aisle in the dress that Vera Wang had custom designed for her designer friend. Brooke thought it was crazy that she had a one-of-a-kind dress by one of the country's premier designers, but she did, of course, love it. And it's not every day that the woman who designed your dress sits in a pew in the church and watches you wear it, either, but that was the case.

It was a veritable who's who of New York society. Between Dan and Deb, Brooke and Nathan, and Lucas and Peyton, it seemed they knew anyone worth knowing in the city, and they just hadn't really realized it before. It was strange to have them all in the same place.

At the reception, while Lucas was holding Katie and talking to one of the guys he and Nathan played ball with, he saw Peyton talking to a man he'd never seen before. She was laughing and whatever the guy said, and Lucas definitely wasn't jealous, but he wanted to know who the guy was.

"Who's that?" he asked Brooke, pointing to the man talking to his wife.

"Oh! That's our old friend Skills," Brooke said happily.

Lucas deduced that Brooke didn't know about Peyton's one-night-stand with the guy, or she wouldn't have said the words like that. She would have been apologetic or she would have said it quietly and assured him that he had nothing to worry about. He knew he didn't, obviously, but he couldn't say he loved the way the guy was looking at Peyton. He wondered if that was all in his head, but then when he glanced at Nathan, his brother shot him a look as if to ask what the deal was with 'Skills' lingering looks when Peyton wasn't paying attention.

Lucas was grateful when Deb came over and demanded that she hold her granddaughter. Katie happily changed hands, letting Deb hold onto her, and Lucas kissed her forehead before heading over to where his wife was standing. He was calm; he didn't want to seem territorial, though he knew he was being exactly that.

"Lucas, hi!" Peyton said. "Skills, this is my husband, Lucas. Lucas, this is my friend Skills, from Tree Hill."

Lucas sensed that she may have been relieved that he was there, that maybe she hadn't wanted to be carrying on a conversation with the man any longer. He extended his hand and placed the other on Peyton's back.

"Nice to meet you," Skills said.

"Likewise." Lucas turned to Peyton and immediately recognized something in her eyes. It was the same look she always got when she wanted to be rescued from a conversation. And now they had a built-in excuse. "Someone was asking for her mommy."

Peyton smiled at him. That statement worked two-fold. It reminded Skills that she had a daughter, and it gave her a reason to walk away from him. She said a quick goodbye and then wrapped her arm around Lucas' waist as they made their way back to their daughter.

But her gratitude didn't last long.

"So that's him," Lucas stated. He was definitely a little unnerved, having just met the last man she slept with before the two of them got together.

"Uh huh."

"Hmm."

"OK, what?" she asked, turning to him a little more. Katie was in her arms, blissfully unaware of what was really going on.

"Nothing."

Truthfully, he was more upset that she obviously knew this guy had been invited to the wedding - she knew every detail about the event - and she'd failed to tell him that 'Skills' would be there.

"You obviously have an opinion, and I want to know what it is," she explained.

"He's not what I thought he'd be like."

"Because he's black?" she asked, raising her brow.

"No!" he was quick to insist. "No, don't be ridiculous. He's just...He doesn't seem like your type."

"Was every woman you ever slept with your type?" she challenged. She didn't love that he'd called her ridiculous. Not at all.

"None of the women I have slept with are here," he mumbled.

Now, they didn't fight often. They had little arguments that they resolved quickly, and that was that. They communicated well and avoided having any big disagreements.

A statement like that, however, was a sure-fire way to get her angry with him, no matter where they were or what they were gathered for.

Peyton didn't say anything in response, though she really wanted to make a comment on the fact that in a crowd of 500 people, it was definitely possible for one of the other 14 women he'd been with to be milling around somewhere. But she wouldn't stoop to his level, and she knew that silly accusations would accomplish it.

She merely stood up with her daughter in her arms, and made her way over to where Dan and her father were talking, leaving Lucas sitting at the table alone, cursing himself for being an idiot.

She ignored him for a while. She sat next to him through dinner, but didn't say a word; they both knew how much he hated the silent treatment. She smiled at the appropriate times and laughed when she was supposed to, and no one but the two of them knew anything at all was wrong.

She had heard his best man speech. He'd been working on it for the better part of two weeks, and she'd sat on his desk in his library and listened to him recite the words, and they made her laugh and cry and love him a whole lot more, as she'd told him. But that speech he'd spent all that time crafting wasn't the one that he gave. He left his note cards sitting next to her on the table, winking at her when she looked at him in confusion.

He spoke from his heart. He gave a soulful and moving speech using amazing words that made her cry again; that made a lot of people cry. Brooke was a mess, and Nathan wiped her cheeks, but even he was moved by his brother's words. Words like trust and understanding and forgiveness, and something about admitting when you're wrong.

Peyton knew the speech was as much for her as it was for the newlyweds. She had to laugh at herself when Katie said 'mama' softly and reached up to touch her wet cheeks. Lucas sat down next to Peyton again, and he leaned over to speak into her ear.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Shut up," she demanded, making him smile. "I love you."

"I love you too, babe," he promised. She grabbed his tie and pulled him into a kiss that made him let out a noise that Katie laughed at. He was wide eyed when they parted, knowing Peyton wasn't necessarily one for PDA.

"Nathan," Peyton said, looking past Brooke towards the groom.

"Yeah?"

"Can you take her for a few minutes?" she asked. He nodded his head, though he looked confused, and Peyton handed Katie over.

She stood from her place and grabbed Lucas' hand, and he questioned what they were doing, but she didn't say anything. She turned around and walked backwards for a second, smirking deviously and looking at him in a way that let him know _exactly_ what she was up to.

As soon as they were in the empty coat check room with the door locked behind them, she kissed him hard. He made a comment, as she undid the fly of his pants, about them being a little longer than a few minutes.

They didn't tell anyone - no one knew but them - but they had some of the hottest make up sex they'd ever had during the reception of her best friend's wedding to his brother.

----

Peyton had thought maybe Katie would want to be a musician; to play guitar or piano or to sing. She'd always enjoyed music. Before she could talk, it would steal her attention if a commercial with a catchy jingle would play, and she'd always liked to listen to classical music as she fell asleep. For whatever reason, Tchaikovsky was always her favourite. Peyton and Lucas always just assumed those were signs of the inevitable.

They were a bit surprised when their little girl insisted that she wanted to be a ballerina.

She wanted a tutu. They were shopping one day with Brooke and as they passed a little dance store, she claimed in no uncertain terms, as firmly as a two and a half year old could, that she needed a pink tutu. Peyton was about to go inside - because let's face it, that little girl got pretty much anything she wanted - but Brooke stopped her.

"Sweetie, I'm going to make you the most special tutu _ever_," Brooke said, kneeling in front of her niece.

"Can you?" Katie asked excitedly, her bright blue eyes wide.

"Yes. And no one else will have the same one. It'll be just for you. One of a kind," Brooke said, tapping the girl's nose. She picked up Katie, who was grinning ear to ear, and she shrugged off the way Peyton was shaking her head.

"What do you say?" Peyton prompted her girl.

"Thank you, auntie Brooke."

"You're welcome, Katie-bug," Brooke said, kissing her little rosey cheek.

Katie-bug was a nickname that Nathan had come up with shortly after he'd started taking care of Katie during the days. Even he didn't know where it came from, but now it was he and Brooke's special little name for her. The couple did almost anything and everything for Katie, usually without being asked. They were waiting until Brooke's work life wasn't so hectic before they had kids of their own, so they figured they could spoil the pants off their niece. Peyton secretly thought that Brooke and Nathan wouldn't wait much longer before starting their family.

When Peyton and Katie returned home after their day with Brooke, Lucas was laying on the sofa with a book in his hands and a cup of coffee on the table next to him.

"Daddy!"

Lucas loved that name, smiled every time he heard it.

"Hey, honey," he said, lifting her up to sit on his stomach as he lay there. Peyton walked over and sat on the coffee table across from them, and she picked up his mug and had a sip of his coffee. "Hey babe."

"Hey." She leaned over and kissed him quickly. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"Your daughter is going to be a ballerina," Peyton informed him.

"Oh, she is, is she?" he asked, smiling in amusement. Katie had been talking about it, but he didn't think it would ever turn into anything serious. Apparently, he was mistaken.

"Brooke's making her a tutu."

"A special one!" Katie added.

"I bet," Lucas laughed. He glanced at Peyton, sensing there was more to the story, but she just smiled and announced that she had to get started on dinner.

She worked away in the kitchen, looking out into the living room every now and again to see Katie still perched atop Lucas' stomach, with him reading to her from his book. It was Orwell's _1984_, and there was no way Katie understood any of it, but she turned the pages when her daddy told her to, and she hung on his every word. Peyton loved that he did that; read classics aloud to their daughter. Peyton thought that if this ballerina thing was a phase, which it most likely was, then maybe Katie would end up being a writer or something.

When Brooke showed up a couple days later with a perfect little pink tutu, complete with matching leotard and little soft-soled ballet shoes, the look on Katie's face was absolutely priceless. She hugged Brooke as tightly as her tiny arms would allow, and she insisted that she needed to put on her tutu _right now_.

Peyton, Lucas and Nathan waited patiently to see the little creation on Katie, and when she stepped out of her bedroom and twirled her way down the hall, Peyton had to place her hand over her heart. Sure, the little outfit was adorable, but the girl in it, even more so. Peyton rest her head against Lucas' shoulder as he draped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. She could tell he was smiling.

"Well?" Brooke asked, putting her hand on her hip.

"Beautiful, sweetie," Lucas said, kneeling down in front of Katie, who was smiling widely.

"What do you think of the shoes. They're the best part, right?" Nathan asked.

"Oh my God. Give it up!" Brooke said, laughing at her husband. At Peyton's questioning glance, she explained. "He bought the shoes. I _hand-crafted _the rest, and he expects to get recognition for whipping out his credit card."

Peyton and Lucas laughed as Nathan shrugged his shoulders, and Katie intervened.

"I love it _all_," she said, very seriously. She ran over and hugged Nathan's legs, then started spinning around again, making Lucas shake his head.

Katie spent the rest of the evening 'dancing' and insisting that Peyton put on 'ballerina music' for her. The adults ate dinner and talked over coffee with Bach and Mozart playing in the background, and Katie stealing their attention constantly, though that was nothing new.

At bedtime, after Brooke and Nathan left, Lucas had to promise that she could wear her tutu again first thing in the morning, in order for her to get into her pajamas. He was shaking his head when he walked into the living room, and Peyton just smiled at him as he ran his hand over the back of his neck. He wasn't sure what the smile was for, but he noticed the way she checked him out as he stretched his arms over his head. He loved that even a couple years into their marriage they hadn't even begun to lose that spark. They promised each other they never would, and so far they were holding true to their word.

"Maybe we should sign her up for classes," Peyton suggested.

"Classes?" he laughed. "She's two!"

"The best artists always start young, Lucas. Look at...Yo-Yo Ma."

"You're comparing our daughter to an Asian cellist?"

"He's the best at what he does, isn't he?" she asked seriously. Lucas got sat down next to her and looked over at her. He could see that she wasn't joking about any of it.

"Do they even have classes for two year olds?"

"I'm sure we could find one. And it's probably just pliés and running around, but she'd have fun."

"She's really hell bent on being a ballerina," he conceded. Peyton smiled and leaned against him. "OK fine. We'll find a school with ballet classes for babies."

"She's not a baby anymore, Luke," Peyton reminded him, trying not to laugh.

"I know," he admitted, almost sadly. "Don't remind me."

"Honey, kids grow up."

"I know. But today it's ballet classes, and tomorrow she'll be going off to college," he said. He may have been exaggerating his point a little bit. Peyton kinked her brow and smiled at him. "Sorry."

"It's alright," she said, as though it was insane for him to be apologizing. "You know what's crazy?"

"What's that?"

"I never really pictured having kids with any of my boyfriends. I guess I always assumed I would, but it was never like, something that I thought about," she explained. Lucas nodded his head. He knew exactly what she meant. "But with you it was different."

"For me too," he said softly.

"I could _picture_ our kids," she admitted. "Granted, they had curly hair, not straight hair like Katherine has."

"They?" he asked. "Plural?"

"Oh," she said sheepishly, smiling cutely when he pulled away from her a little. "Well, I mean...eventually. You know, if you want."

He grinned at her and leaned over, pressing his lips to hers gently. She was almost certain that was a yes.

"Sounds good to me."

"Good," she said softly. "Wait. Are we actually _planning_ something?"

Lucas laughed and shook his head. "Wow. That's so unlike us."

They talked a little more after that; planned a little more. They threw out the rough timeline of maybe waiting until Katie was four before they started trying again. It gave them a little time to get a little more settled than they already were. It gave them a little more time to bond with their little ballerina, too, which they were both insistent on. They wanted to have a firm, steady, solid relationship with Katherine before they brought another baby into the mix.

And when Brooke and Nathan announced their pregnancy only two months later, they knew waiting was perfect. 'Spread out the babies', Lucas had said.

Truthfully, he was really, really looking forward to them having another baby of their own.

----

Well, the ballerina thing wasn't a phase. At least not yet. At four, Katie was still in dance class and loving every second of it. Brooke was commissioned, though she had her hands full with she and Nathan's son, Jonathan, to design little dance outfits for her niece, and she did so without complaint.

Lucas had taken Katie to dance class one Saturday, since Peyton had taken work home to do over the weekend so she could leave early on Friday and she and Brooke could take the kids to see a children's entertainer in the afternoon. Nathan was going with Lucas, upon Katie's request. She wanted 'uncle Natie' to watch her, and he just couldn't say no.

Peyton was in the kitchen after wrapping up her work, and she heard Katie giggling in the hallway outside the apartment, so she walked into the foyer to greet her husband and daughter.

Lucas pushed the door open, and Peyton noticed that he looked utterly exhausted, and she assumed that had something to do with the fact that he'd called her after Katie's class was over and told her that they were going to hang out in the park for a bit before coming home.

"Mommy!"

"Well, hey there, baby," Peyton said with a laugh as Katie ran towards her, throwing her arms around her mother's legs.

"Me and daddy and Nathan fed the ducks! They ate _all_ the bread and then they were fighting over the crumbs. And then uncle Nathan stepped in a _big_ puddle and got all wet!" the little girl said excitedly. "And he said I couldn't laugh, but then daddy said I could and he laughed too."

"I bet uncle Nathan loved that," Peyton chuckled, winking at Lucas, who was shaking his head at his daughter's retelling of their day.

"No. He was mad," Katie said, giggling. "But then he lifted me up and he said he was going to throw me in the pond with the duckies!"

"_No_," Peyton said, wide-eyed.

"Daddy wouldn't let him though," Katie said as they moved to the living room and sat down. She climbed up onto Peyton's lap and tangled her hand up in her mother's hair.

"I bet he wouldn't," Peyton said quietly. "You sleepy?"

"Just a little bit," Katie promised. It was a lie, and both her parents knew it. "I had fun with daddy."

Peyton looked over just in time to see that look of awe he got in his eyes every time he heard their daughter say something like that. She said it often, but he never got sick of it. It was just the sweetest thing in the world. Her little voice and those perfect words.

"Why don't you have a little nap before we have to go dinner at grandma and grandpa's?" Peyton suggested.

"OK," Katie said. Peyton kissed her forehead and set her back down on her feet. "Will daddy tuck me in?"

"I dunno," Peyton drew out dramatically. "Maybe if you ask him _really_ nicely."

"Please, daddy?"

That was plenty nice enough for Lucas. "Come on, munchkin."

Katie gave her mother a kiss before starting down the hall, and Lucas shot Peyton a wink before he followed after her.

Peyton assumed that Lucas would come back out and tell her all about Katie's class and his day with Nathan, but after about 15 minutes, she wondered what was taking so long. She walked down the hall to Katie's room, and when she looked inside, she had to smile at what she saw. Her husband asleep with Katie curled up in his arms, laying atop a pale pink duvet with little ballet shoes on it. She didn't think she'd ever loved him more. But then, she felt that way a lot.

She hurried into his library to grab the camera, and she snapped a few pictures of that moment. The best part was, she knew Lucas would look at them and smile, and thank her for thinking to get photos. As she walked back to the library to put the camera back in its place, she couldn't stop herself from feeling like they were ready for their second child.

After their family dinner that night - the family that had grown so much in recent years - they returned home and tucked Katie into bed, and Lucas explained that he had some work to do that he should have done that afternoon instead of napping with their daughter. Peyton just kissed him at his library door and went back to the living room to watch a little television while he worked.

After about an hour and a half, she got an idea. Well, she remembered an idea he'd had, and she decided it was time to have some fun. Whatever work Lucas had to do would have to wait.

He didn't expect Peyton to come into the library at all, and when she did, he assumed it was for something trivial, like to ask him how he mixed those really good Manhattans, or what channel reruns of The Office were on.

"Hi," she said. She quietly closed the door behind her, but Lucas didn't look up, and she smiled. He had a pencil tucked behind his ear, and a red pen between his teeth, and she really didn't know why that was so sexy, but it definitely was.

"Hey."

"Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"It's time," she said.

"Time for what, sweetheart?" He finally looked up, and that was when he saw what she was wearing. A black trench coat and a pair of heels. Very familiar red ones that he didn't even know she still had. "Fuck," he breathed out.

She started walking towards him and he rose from his seat to stop her from opening the jacket. He wanted to do that himself.

"For another baby," she explained.

"Fine by me," he said, smiling at her as he untied the sash and went to work on the buttons.

"Yeah? No complaints?"

He just shook his head. His beautiful wife was fulfilling two fantasies in one, and he suspected she knew it. He pushed the jacket over her bare shoulders and eyed her as it fell to the floor. Their eyes locked as he rest his hands on her hips, and he gave her the most honest answer he could think of;

"Not one."

**_-Fin-_**


End file.
